Grascorty Castle
by Lucille Lee
Summary: AU. WIP. HBP Spoilers from Ch. 9. Set in the 18th19th century. Hermione hadn’t really gotten used to her new life when she stumbles upon a multitude of adventures involving Severus Snape. What about Remus Lupin now?
1. Chapter One

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**GRASCORTY CASTLE**

_ Lucille Lee_

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Summary: AU. WIP. Hermione's world changes drastically after her parents' death. Set in the 18th-19th century. Just as she was beginning to fall in love with the handsome friend of Lord Black, she meets the plebeian Severus Snape. SS/HG/RL with some side-romances that I will keep as a surprise.

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**_1. In which most of the principle persons of the drama make their first appearance_**

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It was almost winter now. Christmas was a month away. Christmas was always a grand affair in Lord Cromwell's castle.

Lord Cromwell was the twentieth Earl of Grascorty, a lineage which had begun with Grascorty, continued into Plantagenet and was now Cromwell. However, since Lord Cromwell had not married and it seemed that it would not marry now (for he was well above fifty, but you never know) it seemed that Cromwell would die out, too.

He had lived alone in his castle for last twenty-five years. But now, after the death of his younger brother and his wife, he felt obliged to take in his sixteen-year-old niece – or was she eighteen? He really had no idea but his lawyer, a very efficient young man, Percy Weasley, would see to it, no doubt. Much as he relied on Percy Weasley, he hated that young man. Percy Weasley never did anything wrong, so there would never be any pretext for throwing him out. Moreover, his ever-faithful valet, Alistair had assured him, more than once, that Percy Weasley was rather an asset though he seemed to get on everybody's nerves.

Lord Cromwell trusted Alistair, so he put up with Percy Weasley with all the good breeding of his early years.

Even now, as Percy Weasley rattled on and on about something (he wasn't quite sure what it was) Lord Cromwell nodded once or twice and tried to look interested. However, he was eyeing the drawer where he knew his pistol was.

"Weasley," interrupted Lord Cromwell all of a sudden, startling Percy Weasley, who was never interrupted by any Lord once he started to talk, "I want you to go down to my niece's place and tell her that I request her to come up to the castle. I suppose it is my duty to do so since the poor girl has nothing?"

"Your niece, my lord?"

"Yes, my niece. Henrietta… no, Ophelia… something Shakespearean was it? Desdemona… no… oh yes, I remember! Helen! That's the name. Very absurd, if you ask me. Who names a good little country girl "Helen", the goddess of beauty? But I suppose young people these days are odd. Anyway, Weasley, you do that before anything else."

"But the shares in…"

"You do that, Weasley," said Lord Cromwell in a very final sort of voice.

Now, Lord Cromwell was a genial old man but he did not like being disobeyed. When required, his royal blood would burn in full force, making the enemy cower in fear. That's what Percy Weasley did and nodding quickly, made a quick exit.

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Hermione Granger stood in front of her parent's grave, her eyes staring at the sinking sun. It was turning pretty cold, but she really couldn't be bothered. Maybe it was that the cold inside her balanced that which was outside.

However, she was startled out of her reflections when she was her neighbour's youngest daughter, Maria, running towards her.

"Hermione, there is a strange man asking for you. He says he wants to meet Miss Granger, but we told him that he couldn't but he won't have any of it. He says he is from the castle."

Hermione sighed and followed the child back to the Granger Home.

Hermione's first impression on seeing the red-haired young man was that he was extremely annoying. Maybe it was the disdainful expression he wore or the frown with which he regarded her, but she couldn't stop wishing that he left her house.

But with all the grace of the lady she was, she greeted him with a smile.

"Miss Granger, a pleasure to meet you. I come from the Grascorty Castle."

"From my uncle?"

Percy Weasley didn't like the casual way in which this girl talked about Lord Cromwell, whom she had never even met. _That is what comes of marrying out of station_, he thought contemptuously.

His scorn showed on his face, and Hermione disliked him even more.

However, he went on to explain how Lord Cromwell (laying particular stress on how he said the name) would like her to stay with him in the castle. He was most sorry for her parents' death, and since he had no heirs of his own, would like Miss Granger near him.

"After all," said Percy Weasley, just as Lord Cromwell had told him to say before his departure, "A family should stay together."

Hermione listened to all this perfectly emotionlessly.

"Lord Cromwell is very kind," she said, "and I am very grateful for his concern. But my plans are to join the nunnery. You must tell Lord Cromwell that I thank him with all my heart, but I have decided to devote my life to God and serve mankind."

Percy Weasley was stunned by her words.

"Miss Granger…"

"Do you think a letter would be necessary?" she asked bluntly, not really knowing what was proper in dealing with a Lord who was also her uncle – her only living relative.

"I believe not," said Percy Weasley, still not believing his ears.

"Then I suppose that will be all?"

It was rude of her to hint that he ought to leave then, but she really was feeling extremely uncomfortable and annoyed by his mere presence.

Percy Weasley got up and after a stiff curtsey, left the Granger Home.

Hermione sighed. She looked down at her small white hands and unbidden, tears welled up in her eyes.

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"Ever since I have left Hogwarts, there has been a marked decrease in my entertainment," observed Lord Black, flinging away his hat and putting up his feet on the table.

"It has been ages since you left Hogwarts, Sirius," remarked his friend, Mr. Remus Lupin.

"Ages? Good Merlin, no! It feels like yesterday! Don't use that word again! It makes me feel so old!"

"You aren't twenty anymore nor thirty."

Lord Black frowned at Lupin. "Having you around is bad for my health. I insist that I am thirty."

Lupin rolled his eyes. "You may pass for thirty, but you are nearing forty. I know it better than you. We have the same birthdays."

"Indeed?"

Lupin took up the newspaper. It had more interesting things to tell.

"Snivellus was good for my health," observed Lord Black, observing his image in the mirror mounted above the mantelpiece. "He made me feel alive. Every time I tortured him I felt so alive."

"I think you are very stupid to think so."

"Bluntness doesn't suit you, my friend," said Lord Black with a sigh. He frowned slightly at the unruly curls that had slipped out from the ribbon. They hid his new earring.

"If you have finished preening, you peacock," said Lupin, "there is something serious I ought to discuss with you."

"Serious? My dear Remus, you must never consider anything serious. It gives you all those ugly wrinkles on your forehead. While I do not debate Professor McGonagall's excellence in Transfiguration, all those frowns have quite deteriorated her otherwise remarkable face."

Lupin ignored him.

"You have to talk to Harry. Being a Quidditch player is all very well, but his… escapades will certainly ruin his reputation."

"Not among the females. Women love Don Juans. And women are all that that should matter to a man."

"It is a matter of principle."

"I do not believe in principles," said Lord Black, quite pleased now that he had fixed the offending locks of hair, "and I am very pleased that even Harry does not. He is a true wizard."

"Indeed?"

"Not that you aren't. You are good. And I suppose we need good people to bear the brunt of our follies. But, Remus," he said, looking at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I truly believe that you will never bear the brunt of anyone's folly. How evil of you!"

"I am tired of this inane talk," said Lupin and returned to his paper.

"Oh, and, Remus," said Lord Black, as he got up to leave, "We are invited to the Christmas ball at Lord Cromwell's next Thursday."

"We?"

"Surely, you do not suppose that I will go to that place without you?"

"You have Harry."

"Harry will be busy with Lord Cromwell's niece, I perceive. I really cannot tolerate the inane chattering of the people I know are going to be there. You must come with me. You are the only inane person I can patiently listen to."

Lupin wondered at the paradox of Lord Black's words but agreed to accompany him to the ball nevertheless.

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Hermione put down her quill and closed her eyes. She had finished writing all her letters.

She looked at Hedwig perched on the window-sill. Soon, she would leave everything… nothing of her previous life would remain. Much as she desired to see Harry and Ron before she left for the convent, she knew that it was not possible. Harry and Ron ought never to know where she was going. They would dissuade her from her purpose.

She didn't need that right now.

As she sent off Hedwig with the letters, and busied herself with the packing, the doorbell rang.

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She didn't quite know how, but she was sure that it was Lord Cromwell.

"Miss Granger?"

"Lord Cromwell? Do come in, sir. I am afraid the place is in frightful disarray."

"That is quite all right, lassie," he said, settling himself quite well enough in the only remaining chair. "I suppose you know why I am here."

"You are most kind, my Lord, but…"

"None of that Lordie stuff, my dear. And I am not taking a 'no' from a pretty young woman like you. Whatever makes you think that you are going to waste yourself like that? Young people should live, girl – that is there duty, if they have one. And how do you propose to live if you shut yourself in a convent?"

"But…"

"No 'buts'! I am old, my girl, and like all old people, I am lonely. I will admit that I am being selfish in asking you to come to live with me. But I really need someone around me. Someone other than a well-meaning butler and a mad red-head. I know I was wrong in sending him before. But if you don't like him, I will keep him away from you at all times. But, do grant this old man one last wish, girl. Indeed, you will be nothing less than my daughter. Though he was prodigal, I did love my brother. I wasn't able to do anything for him when he was alive – and trust me, child, I regret that. But now, I know it would rest his soul in peace to see his little girl taken care of."

Hermione had sat down on a stool near Lord Cromwell. He took her hands in his as he spoke. Hermione felt kinship to this aged old man even though she had never met him before. She couldn't bear to hear the despair in his voice.

"But, my…. Uncle…, I have made all arrangements now. I leave in two days."

"Arrangements – bah! It's all humbug! You think it is your duty to go through with this? Well, I think your duty lies towards yourself and your old uncle. It will be pleasant in the Castle even though it's large and lonely. Lord Black lives near enough and often visits the Castle with Mr. Lupin and a young boy… Potter, I think. Harry Potter. Well, they are quite good company. And Lady Lovegood's daughter is staying with her aunt nearby – and though she is pretty strange, she is a sweet girl. You need not worry about anything. You will be happy. And the Marseilles and the Greenwoods live nearby if you want more company. They are good people. Why should you cut yourself from life, child? If not for yourself, do it for me. Do it for David and Marie. Do you think they would have wanted you to leave the world?"

Lord Cromwell was _very_ convincing – and that was a heavy stress on that very. Hermione gave in, but very reluctantly. She wondered if Harry Potter was the same as her friend Harry. Moreover, she had not _really _wanted to join the convent. It was just that she had seen no other way. At last, she sighed, and said,

"I will come down to the Castle, Uncle. But first I need to sort out everything here."

Lord Cromwell was beaming. "Oh, you don't need to worry about that, lassie. Weasley will do it. It will keep him busy enough – and off my neck for some time."

Hermione smiled understandingly. Percy Weasley could be a downright pain in the neck.

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"Green, Harry?" asked Lord Black in a long-suffering voice.

Harry messed up his hair a little and smiled at his reflection. "Rather fashionable, don't you think, Sirius?"

"It is?" asked his godfather, looking down at his dark-blue suit. "I must go out more, I suppose. I am losing track of things."

Lupin rolled his eyes. "It isn't a big deal, you two. It is rather idiotic, if you ask me."

"Which is precisely why we do not ask you, Remus," said Sirius, smiling superiorly at him. "At least I am not going to a Christmas Ball dressed as a widower."

"Don't worry, they know that I have never married. I have never had any flings. I have never left the place except for studying. I have a pretty clean record."

Harry looked thoughtfully at him. "Should I take it to mean that you are a virgin? At thirty-something?"

Lupin scowled at him. "That's it! Preening time is over. If you delay anymore, I am not going."

Lord Black seemed truly flustered by this. "No, no. you cannot back out now. You promised. Plus, we are leaving. Right now."

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Hermione was dazed. A Ball? A Christmas Ball? Well, she should have known. Castles meant Balls. Well, not really. But it was Christmas time. She wondered what she would wear. She sorely missed her mother. Her mother would have known. Not that Hermione depended on her for everything. But she wasn't into really these sort of things and well… it seemed too frivolous for her to waste her time.

Plus, it was the first ball she would attend. She was no great dancer. Of course she had got the basic lessons and all. But she supposed actually dancing would be quite an experience. With so many people around.

She was already too scared to go.

"Madam?"

She turned to see a red-haired maid standing near her. Well, at least her uniform was like that of a maid's. Not her manners or face. In fact, she seemed just like…

"Ginny?"

"Hermione? Oh dear Merlin! How different you look with all these expensive clothes and make-up! Are you really Lord Cromwell's niece?"

"I am," said Hermione, embracing her friend. "Oh God! Ginny! I can't believe its you. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Long story," said Ginny, her smile faltering. She sat down with Hermione.

"I am all ears."

"No, it can wait. Presently, I have to get you dressed for the Ball."

Hermione groaned. "The Ball! It is eating me. What am I supposed to wear? And what should I do with this rat's nest?" she asked, referring to her over-curly hair.

"I can help you with that. And as for your dress, it has arrived. That was what I had come to inform you about."

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**That's the beginning. If I have you interested, please review! Remember, Lucille only writes for her readers! **


	2. Chapter Two

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**GRASCORTY CASTLE**

_ Lucille Lee_

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Summary: AU. WIP. Hermione's world changes drastically after her parents' death. Set in the 18th-19th century. Just as she was beginning to fall in love with the handsome friend of Lord Black, she meets the plebeian Severus Snape. SS/HG/RL with some side-romances that I will keep as a surprise.

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**Review Responses:-**

**MayaRose: Thank-you for reviewing. I am rather fond of this time-period myself. **

**bunnyrabbit228: Thanks for the advice. I'll try to follow it. **

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**_2. In which the heroine attends her first ball and meets interesting men_**

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"This… this…"

Hermione had no words – so she groaned.

Ginny could barely restrain her laughter.

"THIS IS HORRBILE!" Hermione finally screamed, restless to get the dress off her.

Ginny gave vent to her amusement. "It is very ugly, yes," she said between her chuckles.

"Ginny! You are not helping! I have to go down there in an hour!"

"All right! Keep your hair on! We are witches, you know. Do you have a blue dress? I will modify it. I learnt many Weaving Charms here."

"I have that old one from the Yule Ball in our fourth-year," said Hermione, going to the wardrobe.

Half an hour later, Hermione was satisfied with the changes Ginny had made in her dress.

"Now hurry up with the dressing. It is not in vogue to be late for ladies – especially young ones," informed Ginny.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you will not be very popular if you arrive late, Hermione."

"No one will be! I know that!"

"I didn't quite mean it that way. Now if Harry or his godfather arrive late, it will be fashionable – they are men who are popular with men and women. So they are always forgiven."

"How ridiculous!"

"Hermione, you are in Grascorty Castle – among the high society. It won't do well to voice such opinions. And don't frown like that when I am putting on the rouge."

"So what kind of a man is Lord Black?"

"Very attractive," said Ginny, unabashedly.

"You know what _I _am asking about."

Ginny smiled – more because she was satisfied with her work on Hermione's hair rather than her exasperated tone.

"He's vain, he's dandy, he's narcissist, he's charming, he's famous, he's rich, he's brave and he has the most sinful smile a man can ever have – or even a woman."

"I don't think I am going to like him," declared Hermione, adjusting her diamond adorned choker, which had originally belonged to her mother, but had become hers when she turned eighteen a few weeks ago. She still remembered her mother's smile when she had first worn it.

"Oh, you will," said Ginny, adjusting the pleats of her dress, "he's too irresistible – and if I may say so, he's one man any woman would die for!"

"Ginny!"

"Hermione!"

"Well, I am looking forward to meeting Harry. He will be surprised."

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Hermione kept by her uncle's side for most of the evening. She was slightly terrified of the older ladies and the younger ones annoyed her to no end. Especially Miss Lovegood. She was… _peculiar_.

And then there were the young men, who, in her opinion, laughed too much and talked too little – and had the obnoxious habit of _not_ taking the hint when you wanted to escape them. On more than one occasion, she had been determined to tell Mr. Corner that his jokes were not amusing but disgustingly vulgar. Her respect for her uncle and an innate sense of propriety just stopped her from doing so.

She wished Harry would come soon.

And finally, the Merlin answered her prayers. Harry arrived along with two other gentlemen.

One of them was very fashionably dressed and seemed very dashing… And he even had an _earring_! Hermione quickly deduced that this was the much-talked-about Lord Black.

The other seemed a quieter, more reserved man dressed in inconspicuous black and with a good-natured smile on his face. Hermione took an instant liking to him.

"Good Merlin! _Hermione_!"

"Harry, it is nice to see you again, too" she said with a not-so-ladylike grin.

Harry enveloped her in a bear-hug, forgetting that this wasn't like old days at school. Many people looked on with surprise.

"Gods! It is so good to see you again," he said, oblivious of all the attention. "Your last letter quite startled me. I thought that you had decided to join the _nunnery_ or something."

"I only just managed to dissuade her from such an act, Mr. Potter," said Lord Cromwell, not at all minding the familiarity that the young man showed towards his niece. Hermione was very grateful. She decided that she was going to like her uncle much, much better than before. Unlike most old gentlemen, he was not annoying.

"Hermione, tell me this isn't true!"

Hermione just shrugged, smiling apologetically. They were making her feel as if she was going to do a bad thing! It had been one of the _best_ thoughts of her life. Seriously, if this went on, she would _really_ go to the convent.

"It is _very_ indecent of you to command the attentions of such a beautiful lady all to yourself, Harry."

Hermione turned her head slightly and her eyes met Lord Black's.

"Lord Black, in your service, Miss Granger," he said, smiling – there was no other word for it – _sinfully_, and bringing her hand up to his lips, all the while maintaining eye-contact with her.

Contrary to her early opinion, Hermione thought that he was rather a gentleman – and very good-looking.

"And here's my best mentor, Remus – Remus Lupin. I told you about him."

Mr. Lupin bowed.

"_Best_ mentor, Harry?" asked Lord Black, affecting great pain.

"You've got to admit that he pulls me out from the mud just at the right time, Sirius."

"He's the _only_ man who is able to keep them away from turning into perfect scoundrels," said Lord Cromwell. "And a darn better lawyer than Weasley."

"You are very kind, Lord Cromwell," said Lupin, "but I must say that Mr. Weasley is much better than me in the matters of law. He is a very efficient young man."

Lord Cromwell shrugged. "Hermione and I both agree on the fact that he's a downright hazard to _our_ sanity."

"Miss Granger," said Lord Black, ignoring his godson's frown, "may I have the honour of having this dance?"

Hermione, for all her apprehensions about men like Lord Black, accepted with a gracious readiness.

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"_So_?"

"So what?" snapped Harry.

"You have not danced more than one dance, Harry. I am worried about you."

"This is _not_ the time, Remus."

"I am _very_ serious, Harry."

Harry sighed, his frown deepening. "Hermione is my best friend – other than Ron, of course. She is like a very dear sister to me. I told Sirius _not_ to talk to her."

"And what did he say?"

"That he won't – that he would keep away from her. But dancing three dances with her isn't really keeping _away_ from her, is it?"

"Miss Granger is rather a good-looking lady."

"I don't trust, Sirius."

"How well would you trust Miss Granger with me, Harry?"

Harry's face suddenly brightened. "You mean it? Thanks a lot, Remus! I know you do not like to dance."

"Miss Granger is _too_ good for dear old Sirius," was all that Remus said as he went towards the couple, hearing the last strains of the music.

Harry, with a clear brow and charming smile went to ask Miss Lovegood for a dance. She was crazy, but she was lovely – especially in that emerald dress tonight.

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"I think you have kept Miss Granger away from us for long enough, Sirius."

Sirius was genuinely surprised.

"May I, Miss Granger?" asked Remus, looking between the couple.

"Go along, Moony. Miss Granger, you have the great honour to be the first woman who Mr. Lupin has asked so willingly," said Sirius, grinning at Remus.

"Professor McGonagall speaks highly of you," said Remus once they had fallen into a comfortable rhythm.

"You are acquainted with her?"

"My pleasure, yes."

"Harry said you were very skilled in Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"I liked them better than everything else. But I think being a lawyer is really my destiny."

"When did you study law? Didn't you attend any Magical University?"

"I could not. My parentage was entirely magical, though. But I had a few friends among Muggles and I got extremely interested in law. It seemed a very nice way to help people."

Hermione smiled. "You were disillusioned, but?"

"Unfortunately," he said with a wry smile. There was something about that smile that Hermione liked – something friendly that set her at her ease immediately.

"And now?"

"I love the legal profession as before but I cannot find clients who are… _worth_ all the hard work. But I have got to make a living."

They were quiet after that. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was rather pleasant. They revelled in each other's company.

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When the dance was over, he stood near her.

"Harry is rather protective of you," he remarked out of nowhere. "How did you meet him and Ron? To my last knowledge, the girls and boys section was different in Hogwarts."

"It was… You-Know-Who business. Ginny had gotten into trouble with his diary. I had gone to find her. So had Ron and Harry. Because Ron wanted to save his sister and Harry was Ron's best friend. Trouble threw us together. We made it out of it alive – and together. You don't go so near death with somebody and not feel anything for them."

"You got siblings that day?" he asked with a smile.

"Three of them," she said, remembering her second-year at Hogwarts. It was the only adventure of her life. "I had always wanted brothers and sisters. But the only two sisters I might have had died at childbirth."

"There are rumours about You-Know-Who," said Remus. It was confidential information, but on knowing that this young woman had confronted some very Dark events and creatures, he felt it was his duty to warn her. He would be surprised if Harry didn't do so soon. But he wanted to be the one who did that.

"I'm all ears, Mr. Lupin."

"He's resurrected. No one knows how or anything else. But he has been."

Hermione looked at him sharply. "These aren't rumours! You know it for sure!"

He nodded. She was as intelligent as McGonagall said.

"It had to happen," she said slowly.

He was taken aback. "Indeed?"

But before she could explain, Harry took her away for another dance.

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"My feet!" groaned Hermione, falling on her bed, fully dressed. "And my head! I feel so ill!"

"Well, you shouldn't have danced so much," said Ginny.

"Are you joking?" murmured Hermione, the exuberance she felt while dancing with Lord Black still alive in her. She got up to get changed.

"You fell for him, alright," said Ginny, smiling at her in the mirror. She felt rather smug.

"I am not sure." Hermione was glad to shrug off her dress. While it was beautiful, it was constricting and heavy.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Mr. Lupin was very… I don't know. I liked him. He didn't startle me like Lord Black did. Nor was he as disquieting. With Lord Black, I felt as if I couldn't quite follow his pace. He was overwhelming."

"You liked him!" said Ginny happily.

Hermione rolled her eyes and got into her bed. "I don't want to dance with him again, although it was rather an experience. He was very charming and everything but of a totally different world. Mr. Lupin, on the other hand, he wasn't so strange. We were rather compatible. I was so glad that he sat next to me during dinner. He loves literature, poetry and painting, too! I cannot believe that he is a pureblood!"

"Hermione!"

"You know what I mean, Ginny," said Hermione, smiling at her friend.

"Yes, I know what you mean. You are infatuated with the wrong person. And here I was… imagining all those _escapades_ we'd arrange for you to meet him secretly. Because I am _sure_ that Lord Cromwell will _never_ let Lord Black court you. He likes him and he would never forbid you to meet such a dashing man – or any other man. But he would be the Bad Uncle and prevent you from meeting him because he does not think that Lord Black could do you any good and not allow him to come near you if he knows his intentions. And I would be the _faithful_ _maid_… bearing all because I cannot see lovers suffer…"

"Dream away, Ginny," said Hermione wryly. The notion of her meeting some '_forbidden'_ lover was quite amusing – but impossible. She was determined to love once in her life and love well. Though she liked him, Lord Black was certainly not the person she would give her heart to.

"But I so want to be the 'faithful maid'," said Ginny teasingly. "Hermione, you have got to fall in love with someone below your station soon! It will be so _exciting_!"

Hermione decided that it was time for a change of topics.

"What about you?" she said. "When are _you_ falling in love?"

Ginny went pale. All the mirth and delight left her face.

Hermione sat up and took Ginny's hands in her own. "Ginny?"

She sighed and rested her head on Hermione's shoulder. "You didn't tell Harry that I was here, did you?"

"I never mentioned I saw you to anybody, no."

"And you shouldn't. No one should know where I am, Hermione. Promise me."

"I promise. Although I think that now is just the right time for you to tell your long tale."

Ginny sat up straight. "It might take all night."

"It won't! Now stop dilly-dallying."

"There was something I hid from you in your seventh-year. You were right about that when you used to ask me if I had some problem. You weren't the only girl in the school who had friends among the boys. However, I didn't have a 'friend' as such in him – we were lovers.

"He was a Slytherin, Hermione, and that was the _only_ reason why I didn't tell you. I thought… I thought you would tell Ron, so I was scared. It was stupid of me, but I was too much in love with him.

"Since he was in seventh-year, he was to leave that summer and never return to the castle again. So he told me about an inn called Grey Woods in the Knockturn Alley. He said I could meet him there.

"The fact that he mentioned Knockturn Alley didn't make me suspect him. He had always said that he was doing it all against his father's will. He didn't want to study Dark Arts. So he had decided to run away – leave the country.But he had now fallen in love with me and would not leave me. He said we would run away together.

"You must not think me bad. I was so much in love with him that I thought of no one else. I didn't think of my mother, my father, my brothers – no one at all. All summer I was sad because of his troubles. I was worried about him. I got no letter from him even though many months had passed. He had told me not to write to him.

"And then after the NEWTs results were declared, he sent me the first letter. He said that the last year had been a lot of trouble for him. He did not want to endanger my life by sending me a letter. It was _such_ a beautiful letter, Hermione! Not for a moment did I doubt the sincerity of his words. I loved him even more. He had asked me to meet him in the inn in a week.

"And the thoughtless creature I was, I did so. I didn't bother about anything. I secretly left the train so that no one would see me, and went there."

Ginny stopped. She was now looking down. She couldn't bring herself to look into Hermione's eyes.

"Ginny?" Hermione said tenderly, stroking her hair.

"And they told me that there was no one of that name there nor had he left any message. There were terrible men there. I was not half as scared as I was upset – upset that something had happened to him. What a great fool I was!

"And then the innkeeper asked me my name. I don't know why, but I had this sudden feeling that something was wrong and so I lied. Thank Merlin that I had lied! For some moments later, a particularly nasty-looking man had come asking for Ginny Weasley – a lass promised for him by Draco Malfoy because he had done an important job for him! That _rotten_, _wicked_ man! I couldn't believe my ears! I couldn't believe that Draco had betrayed me! I slipped away quietly, but I was determined to get to the bottom of this matter. So I waited outside for some hours.

"When that man came out of the inn, I had put glamour charms on my face so that I looked hideous. I asked him the whereabouts of Draco Malfoy. He was drunk so he didn't really bother with 'whys' and 'what'. He told me that Draco was in Italy – on his honeymoon with his bride."

Ginny was shaking with rage, tears of anger and pain burning in her eyes. Hermione embraced her. A couple of years ago, when Malfoy had attacked Harry, and hurt him quite badly, Hermione had not believed that she could hate Malfoy any more than she did then. However, the hate that welled up in her heart for him right now, couldn't have matched it.

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"You didn't quite hate the evening, now, did you?"

Lord Black was lying listlessly on the divan, his head still reeling from the after-effects of too many drinks. The Hangover Potion, taken in large quantity, could yellow your teeth. Whatever he would do, he'd never let that happen to his teeth.

Lupin, who wasn't fond of drinking, was observing some paintings which had just arrived. However, his mind was back in Grascorty Castle.

"No," came the monosyllabic answer from the aristocrat.

"You ought to take my advice which I give it you so freely, Sirius. A single helping of Hangover Potion won't harm your teeth."

"Damn you!"

Lupin sighed and went out, muttering, "You're hopeless."

Outside, he found Harry standing near the roses, deep in thought.

"Barnwell keeps the garden blooming even in winter. Won't neighbours suspect anything?"

"Remus, I need some advice. Well, actually, I need you to do something for me."

Lupin considered his tense face for some time. He had seen that expression only once before on his face. Last night. "Miss Granger?"

"She was the stabilizing aura around Ron and me. She kept us attached to reality when we had flying imaginations about taming dragons and flying higher than the sky. When I met her last night, she did the same thing again."

Lupin hid his emotions well. It was an essentiality of his job. Miss Granger had agreed to his referring Harry as a 'sibling', he told himself.

"I am protective of her – I have always been ever since I saw her. I had almost lost her back in our second-year. She was so true a Gryffindor! Seeing Sirius treat her so lightly last night… well, it set off that responsibility thing again. Now that she is so… friendless, I suppose, I feel I have a responsibility towards her."

"If you are worried about Sirius harming her, then rest assured. He won't. You have just got to show him that you are serious about things when it comes to her."

"I am not worried over Sirius," said Harry, caressing a rose bud. "I am worried about Hermione. All this Voldemort business… and the fact that the Death-Eaters might be anywhere… Imagine if you had a sister alone in a large castle living with nobody who'd be able to protect her… I am very worried about her."

Remus could have kicked himself. Harry's love for Hermione wasn't only platonic, but it was very pure. How could he have supposed otherwise?

"Harry, I believe that Miss Granger is a very brilliant witch – even though I have never seen her with a wand, but I trust Minerva's opinion. What do you think?"

"She's as good as Merlin himself."

"Then I feel that it would be an insult to her intelligence to think that she cannot protect herself," said Remus, with feeling.

Harry shook his head. "I am not sure if she has her wand. She has no inkling of the Dark happenings. And though she is awfully clever in Charms, her heart wasn't in it. How can she be prepared of something she knows not?"

"Ought you not to tell her then?"

Harry seemed flustered. "You might think it very strange – what I am going to tell you now, but it is true. Even though she is brave and brilliant and strong kind of a woman, she will always be like an angelic flower to me. I love her.

"Laugh at me, but I consider it… well… I don't want to tell her about all the evil around. She is blissful in her ignorance. I don't want to scare her or upset her. I will protect her with my life but I will not let darkness taint her."

"Harry…"

"I do not want to know what you feel about it, Remus. But I will be leaving this place soon. I want you to do something for me. I want you to protect her. Grascorty Castle is a bit far, but surely something can be done? You will take care of her?"

Remus looked him straight in his eyes as he answered, "With my life, Harry – and if need be, with my _soul_."

"If you have quite finished mauling that poor boy's head with your ethical thoughts, Remus," came a loud, impatient voice from inside, "you will have the decency to brew me a vial of Hangover Potion."

Remus caught Harry's hand in a reassuring grip before going back to the sitting room.

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Hermione was moving around the castle aimlessly. She had practically nothing to do right now. So she explored the huge castle. She had yet to get around the whole place. It filled her time and was very interesting.

The room that she found today delighted her. It was the library – a place that would make even hell inviting. However, as she was browsing through the books, she heard a familiar tap-tap-tap on the window.

It was an eagle owl. She couldn't remember anyone who owned eagle owls. Ron had a small tawny creature who seemed cute to everyone but him and Harry had a beautiful snowy owl. However, she let it in and untied the parchment.

It wasn't exactly a letter, but more of a note:-

_Your son is ill. I think it will be better if you can stay with him for some time. Come down to the Bridge tonight. I will be there until midnight but no later._

_S.S._

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**My humble attempt at a cliff-hanger. Review? **

**- Lucille **

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	3. Chapter Three

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**GRASCORTY CASTLE**

_ Lucille Lee_

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Summary: AU. WIP. Hermione's world changes drastically after her parents' death. Set in the 18th-19th century. Just as she was beginning to fall in love with the handsome friend of Lord Black, she meets the plebeian Severus Snape. SS/HG/RL with some side-romances that I will keep as a surprise.

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**Review Responses:-**

**BaskervilleBeauty**: Thank-you for reviewing. I am sorry that the dashes didn't appear in the second chapter. Hopefully the line breaks for scene changes will work in this one. Please inform me if they don't.

**Severus-Fan:** Thanks for reviewing. I hope you like this chapter, too!

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**_3. In which Miss Granger meets a person who takes her to a different kind of life_**

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The letter was still in her hand, though crumpled. She was straining her memory to find out anyone who had the initials S.S. All she could remember was her dead neighbour old Sarah Stapleton – a mad old lady whom she had feared when she was a child.

And if she could remember mad old ladies from her childhood, surely she could remember someone who alleged the preposterous fact that she had a son.

She was completely baffled at first, then indignant. But after over an hour of contemplation only curiosity and bewilderment remained.

She was a true Gryffindor. She would certainly go to the Bridge – wherever that was – at midnight and find out what the matter was. The prospect was somewhat exciting.

The rest of the day was spent in restlessness. She wondered who S.S. was. Obviously he or she was of magical community. The letter had arrived through an owl and was written with green ink on a piece of parchment. Green ink… she wondered if the person was a Slytherin. While she did not like unhealthy house rivalry and classifying people according to their Hogwarts Houses, it was still plausible that a Slytherin had played this cruel joke. Though she won't put it past any Gryffindor – they were pretty crude sometimes.

She deduced at last that it was a man. The hand was spidery and somewhat illegible – but it was strong. It wasn't the fine hand of a woman – she had seen mainly women's handwritings till now and a few men's. So she could infer and believe that. Other than that, it betrayed no sign of its owner – at least none which she could read.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

Ginny was bustling about her room, something which reminded her of her mother, straightening things out and cleaning.

Hermione wondered if she ought to confide in Ginny about the letter she had received. But then she decided to the contrary. What if there wasn't a joke but some _mistake_? What if the person who had written desired secrecy? While she had as yet not known an owl to deliver a letter wrongly, but still she supposed that anything was possible in the Wizarding World.

"Yes, I am fine… just thinking…"

"Well, I feel I know who you were thinking about," said Ginny smiling mischievously. "Don't worry you'll be seeing him soon again."

Hermione was glad that Ginny had woken up today and went about her work as if nothing had happened. She respected her – Ginny was a very strong woman. Anyway, Hermione wasn't sure she could now broach the topic of Draco Malfoy without seeking to hex the man to hell.

Briefly, she considered negating Ginny's train of thought. But then she let it pass. She wasn't _so_ infatuated with Mr. Lupin but it was a safer track of conversation.

"How come? He didn't seem very gregarious to me. Moreover, he is a lawyer. They always have a lot of work to do."

"Ah! That's a secret! A surprise! But you'll see."

And no matter what Hermione would say, Ginny was adamant on not letting the cat out of the bag.

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All in all, Hermione wasn't too tired at the end of the day, when Ginny had blown off the candles and left. She had had little to do but she hadn't gone lethargic. Her active mind had kept her alert even after her bed-time.

She got up and with a quick spell had relit a candle. In the dim light, she wasn't able to move about very fast. But it was an advantage. On Hermione's request, Ginny no longer stayed in the servants' quarters, but in a small room next door.

Putting her wand in the pocket of her dress (which she herself had created for the purpose – with her mother's guidance, of course – she wasn't very good at sewing), she was ready to confront S.S.

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During lunch, which she always took with her uncle, Lord Cromwell had informed her that the Bridge was an old wooden bridge over the river at the far end of their country. It was about two miles north from the Grascorty grounds. However, there was a short-cut through the woods, but it was dangerous to go through them. Many people had heard weird wolfish noises coming from there. It was rumoured that a werewolf lived there.

While Hermione thought that it might not be a _total_ figment of imagination, since it was a half-moon night, she thought that she was safe from _that_ predicament. It was eleven when she set out. She needed to hurry through the woods if she wanted to reach there on time.

She had never been quite very brave and all, but she had always managed to hide her fears, and hence, never been classified as a coward.

This forest scared her even without its werewolf. It was too silent – the silence before a storm. There wasn't even an owl about.

It had snowed earlier in the evening. The snow muffled the sound of her footsteps. It wasn't unusual for woods to be silent during winter nights when wind did not blow. But the darkness of the night, combined with her romantic imagination wasn't helping.

What if it was a _trap_ to lure her out? What if someone had _deliberately_ sent that awful note on purpose? What if she was attacked by some wild wolf? _Oh_ _Merlin_! Why hadn't she considered these possibilities before?

Pulling her cloak closer about her, and looking up at the moon through a gap in the canopy, she took a deep breath.

No need to die before one has to.

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She must've reached the Bridge on time because as it came into view, she could see a cloaked figure resting against the railing.

It was a man, as she had rightly suspected and he was dressed in very old-looking clothes.

She stopped for some moments at the edge of the woods before advancing towards the man.

He had turned even before she had started walking.

She had not worn a bonnet and veil. She had not been used to wearing them at Hogwarts and it was uncomfortable for her still. As the dim moonlight fell on the man's face, she was slightly startled.

He seemed to be about forty years of age. His lank hair fell to his shoulders and she could just trace a sliver of silver near his temple. He was tall and thin, with a hawk-like nose (which didn't classify as aquiline).

However, it was his eyes that brought about her reaction. They were blacker than coal and colder than this winter night. They bore into her with a deeply foreboding expression.

His voice was low and dangerous when he spoke.

"Who are you?"

"I… Might I not ask the same of _you_?"

He scowled at her, making her flinch slightly. He stepped closer, his stance proclaiming that he was not to be questioned, only answered. "Where did you come from?"

"Grascorty Castle," she said, not moving. "Was it you who sent that letter?"

Somehow, she very much doubted it. He was the last person she would expect to smile, let alone play some sordid joke.

"What letter?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

She produced the crumpled piece of parchment.

He looked at it for a second. "Why do you have that? It wasn't meant for _you_!"

"The owl gave it to me," she said.

His frown deepened. Hermione could feel that he was a powerful wizard. If not for his clothes, she would have thought him to be the epitome of cruel dictatorship. He was just the fierce Sheriff of Nottingham from her childhood fantasies.

As his eyes met hers, she shrunk back. They were filled with rage and abhorrence.

"You are a spy!" he hissed, whipping out his wand, and holding it to her neck. "Who sent you?"

If it had been Voldemort himself, Hermione would not have been half as terrified. It wasn't the fact that he was holding a wand to her throat. No, _that_ was something that she could deal with easily. It was his eyes. They seemed to bare her down to her soul and then burn it with their intense hate.

"I don't know what you are talking about." She managed to keep her voice steady and her face expressionless, despite of what she felt.

"We'll settle _that_ soon, won't we?" His lips curled in a nasty sneer.

She momentarily wondered if he was going to hex her, but then he stepped closer still and looked deeply into her eyes. Before she could even move a finger…

"_Legilimens_!"

Her whole life seemed to pass in front of her eyes in a flash. She was playing with her father and cousins… her mother crying as she went off to Hogwarts for the first time… her first lesson there with McGonagall… her disastrous flying lesson… Ginny growing paler as Tom Riddle grew stronger… sneaking out to meet Harry injured by Malfoy… helping Ron with his Potions essay… her parents' grave… Lord Cromwell… Lord Black… Mr. Lupin…

She was sitting on the bridge against the railings; her head in her hands and sweat trickling down her face even though it was bitterly cold.

"What did you do?" she screamed angrily at him.

Even he seemed slightly dazed. His wand was still in his hand, but his left hand was pressed to his forehead.

"Who are you?" he asked in a quieter voice devoid of its previous sting. "Are you new at the Castle?"

She ignored him. "How could you go _inside_ my mind like that? What do you think you were doing?"

"I apologize," he said quietly, kneeling down on one knee. "These are dangerous times. I am in a dangerous position. I have to be wary of things and people at all times. Moreover, you seemed a powerful witch. I was suspicious."

He extended his hand towards her. "I am truly sorry."

She nodded slightly and took his hand. It was difficult to imagine that this courteous gentleman was the same man who had spit-out words filled with venom at her.

"That note… you say the owl delivered it to you?" he asked, his brows drawn together in a frown.

"Yes. He let me untie it. I thought that it was for me."

He was about to say something, but closed his mouth. He was looking at a point above her shoulder… towards the forest. Hermione turned around.

Moments later, she felt him grip her waist and pull her down with him – just as a flash of green light whizzed past where their heads had been.

"Apparate back to the Castle. Now!" he hissed at her as he shot some Dark curses towards the cloaked figure at the edge of the forest.

"But…"

"NOW! I can save my life – I may not be able to save both of ours!"

She nodded and closed her eyes.

"Go away!" he muttered again, ducking a red ball of light.

She tried hard… but something was stopping her.

"I can't!"

"You can't apparate?"

"Something is stopping me. I can't!"

He swore angrily and pulled her to himself. "Then you'll have to come with me."

"What? I…"

Before she could finish her sentence, the world was spinning around her.

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When she opened her eyes, she was in an attic – which seemed to have been modified for accommodation.

The man had stepped back and was regarding her with a particularly dangerous look in his eyes.

"Will you explain what happened back there, woman?"

"I couldn't apparate to the Castle. I think there was an anti-apparating Shield around it."

He glared darkly at her. "Lord Cromwell is a Muggle."

She stiffened. "Do you mean to tell me that I am _lying_, sir?"

He sneered. "For your life – I hope you are _not_."

Her hands balled into fists. Her temper had never been good when it came to someone accusing her wrongly. "Why don't _you_ try apparating there if you do not trust me?"

"I cannot. I have never seen the place."

"And yet you know someone there well enough to be the guardian of their son."

"As for _that_ little matter," he said, taking her arm in a strong grip and looking straight into her eyes, "you _never_ received the letter and you _don't_ know anything about it. It is a secret – and someone's life may depend upon it. But if you decide to wag your tongue, woman, know it that I have _no_ scruples at performing the Avada Kedavra on anyone – I have been tried."

Hermione frowned at him and wrenched her hand away from his grip. "All that keeps me from hitting you for your audacity, sir, is the fact you saved my life."

Before the man could reply, there were shouts and screams from the street.

He went over to the window of the attic to peer down.

"Drunken idiots," he muttered as he sat down in the chair – the only chair, Hermione noticed. She remained standing near the table.

"What is this place?"

"London."

"And how am I supposed to go back to Grascorty?"

"That would be _your_ problem as you have decided to burden me with your _damned_ presence."

Her eyes flashed angrily. "_I_ didn't ask you to apparate me here."

He shrugged nonchalantly, pulling out some old tomes from under the low bed. Then he proceeded to light the candles with a wave of his wand and completely ignore her.

Hermione tightened her fists, which were trembling with her force, but said nothing. She went to the door. She would find her way back to London herself.

"Unless you want to be attacked by a hoard of drunken men, I would suggest you remain here," he said dryly, not moving his eyes from the book.

"I have my wand with me – and I know how to use it."

"A hoard of _Muggle_ drunken men."

"I'll hex them anyway!"

"Azkaban isn't a very lovely place as compared to Grascorty Castle."

"I am old enough…"

"According to the new legislations passed yesterday, _any_ witch or wizard – underage or not, for protection or not – who uses any form of magic in front of any number of Muggles will be convicted without a trial."

She hit the door with her fist but didn't go out. _Another_ _of_ _Minister_ _Fudge's_ _idiocies_, she thought angrily.

She remained standing stiffly against the door for some time. Then after some time, she looked about the garret. There was a low bed with a thin mattress and a blanket on one side and a stack of books, parchments and quills and ink on the other. There was just enough space between the two for a two-drawer bureau. By the looks of it, this was where the man lived. But how could anyone live here? There wasn't even a fire. Just some thick candles for light. And the blanket looked so old that she wondered if it was a souvenir from his great-grandfather's days.

She didn't see him regarding her as she looked at the bed. As if reading her mind, he said, "It's not much but it's the best you'll get tonight. You can find your way back to Grascorty tomorrow. Who are you, anyway?"

"Hermione Granger."

The man regarded her with a queer look. "Hermione?"

"My parents loved Shakespeare."

"Of course," said the man absent-mindedly. "You can have the bed. I have a lot of work for the night anyway."

When Hermione didn't move, he said, "I am _not_ going to hurt you, stupid girl. I am certainly not the best man you will ever meet, but I don't harm women. They really aren't worth the trouble some men go for… Not that I am required to give explanations. If you have doubts about my intentions, you are much welcome to spend the night standing by the door."

His tone was very foreboding and he seemed offended by her doubts. Wondering about the startling changes in his manners – callous, gentle, rude, yet considerate – she got into the bed. She was very tired and in spite of his harshness, she trusted him. It was unexplainable why she felt comfortable… but she did.

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When she woke up, it was to the sound of rain splattering angrily on the roof.

Still slightly sleepy, she got out of the bed, reflexively smoothing out her dress but failing. She was sure that she must be looking like a hag. She looked around, but the man wasn't there.

She went over to the table where many parchments were kept. His scrawl covered them. She recognized the language as Spanish but did not understand it. She had had little formal education of Muggle-style as she was a witch.

Just as she was about to open a book, she remembered he was reading yesterday, he returned.

"Good, you're awake. Would you please come with me?"

She put down the book and followed him wordlessly.

"It's the boy I mentioned in the letter which you got," he said as he led her to a small room on the floor immediately below the attic, "he's ill. I can provide him nurses, but there isn't a decent woman in this house who I would trust him with. And I would rather not leave the house right now leaving behind both of you."

"I am capable of taking care of myself and the boy," she said, kneeling beside the child's bed.

He seemed to be about a year or two old. Although his cheeks were flushed with fever and his hair dirty, Hermione could see that he was a beautiful boy. His golden locks framed a perfectly sculptured face with aristocratic features. He seemed strangely out of place here.

"He has fever. I have the solution with which to soak the cloth and press his head. He's a wizard…"

The man brought a bowl with shimmering rainbow-coloured liquid.

"I have had some Mediwitch Training," said Hermione, "would you please get some cold water? It will embellish the effect of the solution."

With a quick nod, the man went out.

Hermione lovingly caressed the child's head.

"Mum?"

"She'll be here soon," whispered Hermione, kissing his forehead.

He opened his eyes. Hermione found herself looking into the lightest blue eyes she had ever seen. They welled up with tears.

"Mum?"

"Calm down, boy. She'll take of you."

The man mixed the water and solution dexterously. Hermione wondered if he was a Potions Master or someone of that kind. Her Potions Professor, Elizabeth Burns had had a similar manner of working.

"What is his name?"

The man frowned at her. "I am afraid that I cannot tell you that – to maintain secrecy."

"His first name?"

"Florinzel."

"What does his mother call him?"

Understanding dawned in his eyes. "Loren."

Hermione pressed the cloth on his head lightly, at the same time, murmuring, "You are going to be well, Loren."

"Mum," was all that he murmured but leaned in to her touch.

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Some hours later, she sat on the small bed, with Loren nestled against her in her lap. The solution had worked fast. The fever was already waning. Unlike among Muggles, it was not harmful if the fever faded away fast among wizards. The magic was adapted to that.

The man had finally left after a boy brought him a note. He seemed suspicious about her still, but the matter had been too pressing, she believed, to allow him to indulge his notions.

She looked at Loren.

The feeling that he was so out of place here persisted. He wasn't supposed to live in a shackle like this. She wondered who his parents were and why they had left him here. If this was her child, she would never ever part with him.

Smiling slightly as the child clutched her fingers, she ran her fingers through his golden locks. The simple trust that he showed in her made her love him. She had never been fond of children because all she had ever seen of children were squalling, screaming brats who liked to dirty everything about them.

She leant against the headboard. The rhythm of the rain, falling in lighter showers now, on the roof soon put her to sleep.

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know that I don't use the Cant language simply because I can't. If I tried it, I would mess up everything. So I apologize for that. I hope it does not affect the story too much.**


	4. Chapter Four

**GRASCORTY CASTLE**

_ Lucille Lee_

Summary: AU. WIP. Set in the 18th-19th century. Hermione hadn't really gotten used to her new life when she stumbles upon a multitude of adventures. Will life at Grascorty Castle be more different than she thought? SS:HG:RL

**Review Responses:-**

**BaskervilleBeauty**: ;-P The _intrigue_ will deepen and I am excited at having such a perceptive reader. At this rate, it will be a tough task keeping you in suspense!;-)

**Almost Funny:** Thanks for your kind review. And a greater thanks for that usual bit of information. In fact, I did have the setting on accepting only logged reviews. I am quite new around here and it took quite a while to understand what you had meant back there in your review. So now dare I hope a greater readership?

**_4. In which Hermione Granger gets to know more about things _**

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione stirred slightly, murmuring something inaudible.

"Miss Granger?"

She woke up as she felt a warm hand close around her shoulder and gently shake her.

A woman with thick curly black hair, showing traces of white near the temples, was standing near her.

"I am here to take care of the baby – Mr. Snape asked me to."

Hermione, now wide awake as she felt the warm weight in her lap, was instantly suspicious. Supposing that the man with whom she had been was 'Snape' – he had said that he would not trust anyone in this house with the child.

"All right," she said, but I want to stay here with him… You may need me."

"No need, Miss Granger," said the man, who had come in unnoticed from another door, "this is Mrs. Glen – my sister. She has just come back. She will take care of Florinzel."

Hermione caressed Loren and gently kissed him. Reluctantly, she handed him over to Mrs. Glen.

"And since it has stopped raining, you might as well start for Grascorty," he said as he lead her back to the attic.

"How long a journey is it?"

"Two days. The coach will stop at a few inns, of course. So you need not worry about it."

"Mr. Snape," she said, remembering his name, "Do you have an owl?"

"Now that you mention it," he replied, frowning, "Eros hasn't returned since his last journey to Grascorty."

Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. Hermione, whose brain had been working at this mystery, thought she knew what had so startled him.

"Someone had intercepted him," she said quietly.

He nodded curtly. "Therefore he had been disoriented when he met you and delivered the letter wrongly."

Hermione drew a sharp breath. "The attack on the Bridge…"

"… was planned by whoever had intercepted the owl," completed Snape for her.

"Who was it?"

He turned towards her. "Pardon me?"

"I think you recognized who was attacking you. That is why you were so eager to defeat and trap him," said Hermione sharply.

He said nothing but put some money in her hand. "This is probably all you will need to reach Grascorty," he said stiffly.

She tried to interrupt him but he cut her short.

"The coach leaves from the next block straight ahead. You shouldn't have much trouble finding it. A family is leaving by that coach, too. If you go down fast enough, you can join them."

"What's going on?" she said. "There is something very serious going on and I want to know what it is."

He glared at her. "Forget this little matter."

"Little matter! I shan't – not when there is an unknown wizard or witch in my household and he or she is involved in this. I cannot let anyone endanger my uncle and everyone else in Grascorty!"

"I assure you that it will never happen again," he said coldly.

"Mr. Snape…"

"And never mention me. Do not mention me to anyone. You will not need to give any explanations when you return."

"What do you mean?"

"You will find out when you go back. Go down fast or you will miss the coach."

"I shall not!" said Hermione heatedly. "Not only is my family and friends, but even that child in danger! What is he doing here? He is not supposed to be here… this isn't safe for him. If his parents do not want to take care of him, I will. Let me take that child. He will have a proper life then!"

Snape's eyes shone with barely contained anger. "Do not speak of things you are unaware of girl. You will not mention this little adventure to anyone. If I see you as a threat," he pulled out his wand, "I will obliviate you."

Hermione was slightly startled but did not come back. "How do I know that the child will be safe? That he won't get hurt?"

"I am taking care of him. If I am in charge of anyone, I protect them with my life," he said steely.

She felt that she believed him but the ever deepening mystery around her intrigued her very much. She hated to be kept away from everything. She had a sneaking feeling that a few people back home had something to do with everything. Everything was deeper than it seemed.

"Go! I do not want to drag you downstairs."

She conceded albeit reluctantly.

"Goodbye, Mr. Snape, and thank-you," she said, looking at him, and then hurried out. That was one man she would never forget.

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The family, the Browns, it seemed were going to a country just before Grascorty. They were friendly people and Snape had requested them to keep her with them.

"He was really courteous," said Amelia Brown, who seemed a little older than her. "I was surprised because Snape is never courteous. He _always_ scowls and frowns at us and never eats with anyone. He is Mrs. Glen's worst tenant although she is his sister."

"And he lives in _that_ _attic_!" said Georgina, who seemed about thirteen.

"And he has no end of _strange_ visitors," said Amelia. "Once there was a man who had a very strange eye and walked very queerly."

"And once there was a _very _handsome blonde man," said Georgina, blushing slightly. "He had beautiful long blonde hair that came to just below his shoulders and his eyes were so beautiful!"

"Georgina!" her mother chided her.

"Oh, but, mamma, he was so beautiful!"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "You thought that about Jake Hanson, too. And about Willy Choir and Henry Rovers."

"But he was quite _different_. He seemed to have _magic_ around him!"

Hermione's ears perked up at this.

"Was he tall with a very straight nose and pointed chin?"

"And an expression befitting a prince," sighed Georgina, her eyes dreamy.

"I think he looked rather haughty as if he considered everyone below him," said Amelia with a huff. "You are stupid, Georgina."

Hermione listened to all this perfectly emotionlessly. But inside, she was in turmoil. The description fitted only two wizards whom she knew.

"He had come to meet Mr. Snape?" she asked.

"Yes, and they talked in very low tones and had the drawing room to themselves for full two hours without caring for anyone else. I had left my needlework there but they didn't care! And even Mrs. Glen forbade me to retrieve it! What could they be talking about anyway?"

"It is a pity he never came to meet him again."

"I'd say it was rather good," interrupted Mrs. Brown suddenly. "It is not nice to have snobbish men come down to our houses. They are rascals, all of them."

"He was a prince, not a rascal, mamma!" said Georgina indignantly.

"That will be quite enough, Georgina!" said Mrs. Brown sharply.

The rest of the journey passed in relatively unimportant chatter. None of the women could agree with each other on any issue and after a while, Hermione's attention had wandered back to Mr. Snape.

He had rather unsettled her with his unpredictable-ness. One moment she wanted to slap him for his impudence and callousness and the next second he was quiet and courteous, though he never lost his touch of rudeness and indifference. She had never met anyone like him. She had met men like Mr. Lupin, who were very nice and kind and Lord Black, who unsettled her in a different way – with his fast pace of everything. There were men like Mr. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy's father, who were very cold and filled with animosity.

She wondered if it had been Mr. Malfoy or his son who had come visiting Mr. Snape. They were both highly alike except that Draco was a head shorter. But he was tall even then.

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She arrived at Grascorty late in the evening. The journey hadn't been too wearisome but the incessant chatter of the Browns had really annoyed her this afternoon. Her head was paining.

Unsure in which direction the castle was, she pulled out her wand to perform a "Point Me." She had a vague idea that the castle was at the north of the hamlet.

"Miss Granger?"

Hastily pocketing her wand, she turned around.

"Mr. Lupin!"

"Thank goodness you are safe!" he said, relief evident in his voices as he came up to her. "I was most worried about you."

He made to embrace her but suddenly stepped back, colouring slightly.

She wondered how _he_ had known about her being away from Grascorty. Then she remembered Ginny saying something about her getting a chance to meet Mr. Lupin very soon. She just hadn't known that it would be so soon that he would find out that she was missing. Did he expect her to tell him something about her… _absence_?

"I have only got a gig from the village. I only just knew that you would be arriving."

"_You_ _knew_?" Hermione was suddenly suspicious.

He led her to the gig, and not quite meeting her eyes said, "Mr. Snape is… an acquaintance."

"He owled you?"

"Well, not really. He did not know that _I_ knew you. It was quite by chance…"

Hermione wanted to question him more but his tone made it quite clear that he didn't want to talk about it. She did not want to anger him by pressing for information. She would find out about it – but not just now. She changed the topic.

"What about Lord Cromwell?"

"Ginny told him you were ill. Unfortunately he sent for a doctor. Fortunately he sent for Dr. Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt is a wizard. He decided to put his magic to use in better areas – like not bleeding his patients to death. Some Muggle customs are indeed beyond me. Also, he is a friend of mine. Ginny informed him that you were missing and he told me."

"You know _Ginny_?"

Mr. Lupin grew uneasy; clearly he had said more than he wanted to.

"I… I know her, yes."

"And Ginny knows Dr. Shacklebolt is a wizard?"

"He doesn't bleed his patients to death. So… she kind of find out about him…"

_If there was something Mr. Lupin couldn't do,_ thought Hermione, _it was lying_. But she wasn't about to declare _that_ to his face. She was a lady.

"There are so many witches and wizards here, aren't there? Tell me, Percy Weasley is Ginny's brother, isn't he?"

"I am not sure… I suppose so."

He was clearly regretting coming here for her. She wondered what he was trying to hide.

However, her curiosity was overpowering her.

"Why did you mention Mr. Snape? How did you know about _that_?"

Mr. Lupin had never sympathised with Professor McGonagall when she had told him that Miss Granger asked too many questions. Right now, he couldn't wait to rectify his mistake.

"The witch for whom the letter was meant… she told me."

Hermione forgot all about her resolve to not annoy him. "How did she know? Do I know her?"

"I… believe not."

She just restrained herself from saying, "_I_ believe so!"

Before she could ask something else, he said, "I really cannot answer anymore questions, Miss Granger!"

She nodded slightly and looked down. If he didn't answer it _didn't_ mean that _she_ would not find out about anything.

The rest of the journey passed in silence.

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"Miss Granger," he said, as he stood with her near the bridge, which luckily was still down. However, Hermione suspected that more than one person inside that castle had expected her.

"Thank-you, Mr. Lupin," she said a bit stiffly. She was somewhat angry with him though. She didn't understand why _everyone_ was so secretive around her. Everybody knew _something_ she didn't.

"Hermione," he came closer and took her hands in his, "please promise me you will stay inside the castle – you will be safe."

His sudden proximity had unnerved her. "I… What should I be wary of?"

"Everything," he said, pressing her fingers slightly and looking into her eyes. Hermione felt quite lost in his hazel eyes. "I am sorry I cannot tell you anymore now. Please don't ask me."

"I won't," she managed to breathe, not realizing that she was leaning towards him.

He suddenly stepped back. Hermione felt bereft. "I'll see you again soon," he smiled and then got on the gig.

Hermione stood there until he disappeared in the darkness. Sighing, she turned towards the castle. At least now she had a job to occupy her time… if being 'nosy parker' was a job.

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"Remus John Lupin! If you do not stop pacing anytime soon, I will be forced to hit you hard."

Remus did nothing more than continue pacing – up and down the room.

Lord Black, quite unlike his usual "gentleman" self threw a couch-cushion at his head. "My head is paining from the cold, Moony and you are not helping."

Remus threw himself in a chair near the fire and groaned. "Merlin! What have I done!"

Lord Black's mood perked up. "I recognize that tone! It is a woman business! I knew you weren't infallible!"

Remus gave him a withering glance. "I am going to bed," he said shortly. But before he could get up, Lord Black came over and stood before him.

"I am your best friend – or supposed to be something like that. You are going to confide in me!"

"I am really not in a temper to humour you, Sirius," snapped Remus.

"It is a woman," said Lord Black, grinning. "And if I am not wrong her name is Hermione Granger."

"She's a witch."

"I know."

"No… not like that… she… she's strange."

"No," said Lord Black slowly, "you are strange around her."

Lupin looked at him. "What?"

"You are not quite your calm and composed self around her, Remus. I know. So – what did you do? Did you kiss her?"

"No!"

Lord Black sighed and went back to his couch. "You are hopeless as ever. She has perfectly delectable lips!"

"Sirius!"

"What? I have merely stated what you think about all day!"

"I don't think about it all day!"

"You do!"

"I don't!"

"You do!"

"This is madness!"

"Yes – you ought to have kissed her. She won't have rejected you. She liked you better than she liked me. Offending as it was, I know that she would have liked you kissing her than any of my advances. You are a perfect fool, Moony!"

Lupin was thinking about something else. "You are right, I lose my calm around her."

Lord Black heaved a deep sigh and leaned back. "Our conversation has proceeded further than that."

"She… I don't know… I blurt out things without quite knowing what I want to say or what I ought to say. It got me into trouble today. Merlin forbid it gets her into trouble!"

"Remus…"

"What?"

"You are besotted with her!"

"I…"

"You need to stay away from her for some time or you are going to make a complete fool of yourself in front of her. It will be disgraceful. And you need to be clear-headed for the Order meeting tomorrow."

"It is a wonder you remembered," said Remus dryly and went out. He wasn't sure he could listen to Sirius anymore. He hadn't thought that Sirius could ever sum up his feelings so well.

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:-**

**I am not sure of Remus' middle name. Is it John or something else? If it is wrong and you are sure about it, then please correct me. I would change it.**

**Sorry for the delay. Since my exams are going on, I hardly got time to type out anything. They will continue till 24th March although I will appear only for 2 other papers – English on 15th and Science on 24th . So now, unless the modem troubles me, updates will be regular.**

**Secondly, "Florinzel" is not an original name. I have read it somewhere. I am not sure where because I come across thousands of names. It has to be some famous person's first name because I believe it was in some quotation-book. **

**Plus, now I am accepting unlogged reviews (thanks to Almost Funny). **

**So if that had stopped you from reviewing before, well, you know it won't do so now.**

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	5. Chapter Five

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**GRASCORTY CASTLE**

_ Lucille Lee_

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Summary: AU. WIP. Set in the 18th-19th century. Hermione hadn't really gotten used to her new life when she stumbles upon a multitude of adventures. Will life at Grascorty Castle be more different than she thought? SS:HG:RL

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**Review Responses:-**

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**GRASCORTY CASTLE**

_ Lucille Lee_

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Summary: AU. WIP. Set in the 18th-19th century. Hermione hadn't really gotten used to her new life when she stumbles upon a multitude of adventures. Will life at Grascorty Castle be more different than she thought? SS:HG:RL

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**Review Responses:-**

**Paprika**: Thanks for reviewing!

**BaskervilleBeauty**: I am flattered! Hope you like it till the end! It is not very difficult to portray Lord Black, though. It is my opinion of what he would be if he hadn't been doomed to spend thirteen years in Azkaban.

**Natsuyori**: Thanks for the review and for clearing my doubt about Lupin's middle name! I always want to be right about people's name, you see. It is almost an obsession. ;-)

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**_5. In which Hermione Granger begins her "job" and Remus Lupin is despondent_**

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Hermione mindlessly plucked at the threads from a hack on her sleeve.

It was all right to _say_ that you would poke about here and there and find out about things. The problem arose when you _actually_ started on the job.

That was the problem, wasn't it? She didn't know _where_ to start.

She had performed a spell which informed her that Ginny was the only witch in the castle other than her.

That could mean two things – either the mysterious witch had been sent away from Grascorty.

Or… or the more _probable_ reason – a reason she _believed_, in fact: Ginny was the 'mysterious' witch. It all fitted in, though.

Mr. Snape – a hostile and insolent man – had been taking care of a child which was certainly not his. But he had also had either Malfoy junior or senior as his visitor.

Why?

She found the answer rather simple. Because of Florinzel. Because Florinzel was Ginny and Draco's child. Because Draco Malfoy – though he might be the most wicked man on the face of the earth – would not lose his heir.

Though Hermione was a Muggle-born and knew nothing about the pureblood "society", she was aware of the peculiar kind of magic that existed between parents and their children – not adopted children, blood children. It was the power which had saved Harry from being roasted off by Voldemort. It was the power which had let Ron break through 'Tom Riddle's' (the one from the diary-adventure of their second-year) shields. It was the power which made Draco Malfoy a terrifying and unbelievable replica of Lucius Malfoy.

So if she was to follow _this_ train of thought, it would mean that Ginny had lied to her – in a way.

She remembered Ginny telling her how much she hated Draco Malfoy and never wanted to have anything to do with him again. Plus, she hadn't mentioned a child.

Somehow, it was very painful to know that Ginny was lying… That Draco Malfoy wasn't a complete idiot and devil and had _not_ disowned his child.

But why would Ginny _lie_ to her? Why not tell her _nothing_ at all?

She had told her _supposedly_ everything, mentioning that she hated Malfoy junior.

Instead of lying, she could have simply _avoided_ the whole episode. But she _lied_. She told her everything and yet she had _lied_.

Hermione was confused. _Why_ would she do that? Won't it be easier and _safer_ to keep her in ignorance and pretend that _nothing_ had happened?

That was the first shortcoming. She couldn't fully trust Ginny. Ginny had lied to her. There was no reason why she would not do it again. It was very hurting. After all, they were supposed to be best friends – sisters.

The second one had struck her after some deep thinking.

Why would they keep Florinzel with _Mr_. _Snape_?

_Who_ was this Mr. Snape anyway? She was sure that she had never heard Ginny mention him ever before. Had Florinzel been taken away from Ginny by force? She didn't think so. Mr. Snape would not have sent that letter then.

Anyway, that was the confusing part of it. But she could not seem to be any near the solution than before.

And as for the matter with Mr. Lupin… well, _that_ was a different story entirely. She was not at all sure where he fit in. And this Dr. Shacklebolt… What had these people to do with Ginny, Mr. Snape and Malfoy?

She had thought that Mr. Lupin was the kind of man who would hate the Malfoys. _Was_ _she_ _wrong_?

She didn't know.

All she knew that she was horribly confused. And she had no inkling about what to do about it.

She let out a slight cry – it was all _so_ frustrating!

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She had fallen asleep in her dress, which was crumpled, dirty and a little torn from the journey so she didn't have much regrets about _that_. Fortunately, she had had a good night's sleep in spite of her turbulent thoughts. She woke up to a clearer day than one would expect on the last day of the year. There was no sun but there were no dark, furious rain-clouds either. All in all, she had woken up to a better atmosphere than she had gone to sleep in.

There was no darkness and it gave her fresh hope.

She didn't see Ginny at all that morning – or for the rest of the day. There was no other maid in her place either. However, it didn't make any difference. She could dress very well on her own and clean up her room, thank-you.

She ordered a hearty breakfast. She wasn't a glutton, but she believed that a good breakfast gave the energy required for strenuous thinking and conversations and she suspected she would be doing some of _that _soon.

At half past nine, she went to the library. She had seen a quill and some parchments there. Hopefully, there would be some ink about.

She wanted to send a letter to Harry asking him to meet her – giving the impression that she really, really needed to talk to him. That would bring him without hesitation. Harry, unlike all the new people (except Ginny) she had met, was a person with whom she could have a heart-to-heart talk. She had known Harry since they were twelve. Merlin, she had even known about his first kiss and he knew about the boys she had fancied! It was _odd_, but it was there. Not only with him, but with Ron, too. It was as if they were 'sisters' to her or maybe she was a 'brother' to them.

At the Christmas Ball, she had realized that Harry still loved her as he had in their school-days. Hopefully, he would listen to her and not tell lies to her. Not hopefully, _surely_!

As she found some violet ink in a drawer and began writing her letter, she wondered where Ron was. He had said something about Quidditch-training, but even he hadn't been sure about it. Hermione made a mental note to ask Harry about Ron when she met him.

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Remus hadn't been able to sleep at all that night.

His mind had been going over what Sirius had said and then he had been drawing his own conclusions. All in all, he agreed with Sirius. But he wasn't _sure_ that was what he wanted. He was anxious about Miss Granger. She had shown her great capability of falling into mortal peril – much like every other Gryffindor – and there was _nothing_ to assure him that she won't do _that_ again.

Ginny could possibly not have been able to help. She had already failed. Moreover, she wasn't in the Castle, so that wasn't an option he would consider.

And Merlin knew where _Harry_ was!

It would be futile to ask Dumbledore about Harry's whereabouts. Harry had hinted that it was a 'super-secret' task. Even Sirius won't know anything about it.

How in the world was he to protect the woman he loved when all _he_ could do in front of her was babble out things that weren't _meant_ to be babbled out!

If only Percy Weasley could see his condition now… he would probably be assured of winning any and every case against him by bringing Miss Granger in his line of vision.

It was so _queer_! He had _never_ thought that he would like a woman _that_ much! He couldn't even _think_ of anything without her interrupting his thoughts! Was it _possible_ to feel so intensely about anyone?

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"Mr. Lupin," his valet informed him once he had finished dressing, "Lord Black has requested your presence in the breakfast-room."

Lupin glanced at the clock. "I thought he was a late riser."

"Lord Black has been up and about since seven o'clock in the morning."

Lupin nodded absently. Something had gone wrong with _everyone_. The world had turned upside down.

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Lord Black, it turned out, wasn't having his breakfast in the said room, but reading some letter.

Remus frowned. He had been expecting something to eat.

"You have a rival for Miss Granger, Remus," Lord Black informed him brightly. "And you won't believe who it is!"

"I hope it isn't _you_," said Remus wryly, ringing the bell. It was true that he had heart-troubles but he was in _no_ _way_ going to get love-sick. He had an appetite which demanded good food.

"It's Harry!"

Remus remembered his talk with Harry in the gardens before the latter was to leave for Merlin knows where.

"You're behind times, Sirius. Harry loves Miss Granger as his _sister_."

"Well, _Miss_ _Granger_ does not," persisted Lord Black, giving him the parchment he was reading. "See what she writes… _There is something about which I can only talk to you… Please come down to the Grascorty Grounds this afternoon… I desperately need to talk to you… I will be waiting near the great pine…"_

Remus paled slightly. It _couldn't_ be, could it? Harry had seemed so sincere when he said he had purely platonic feelings for Miss Granger! Well, he hadn't quite said _that_, but that was the gist of what he had said.

What would Miss Granger need to talk to _him_ about, anyway?

"I think that we are misinterpreting this," said Remus, his appetite suddenly vanishing even though the eggs and bacon and coffee were immaculately laid out and were his favourite.

"I think you ought to tell her that you love her before Harry does," countered Lord Black.

"I think you ought not to have opened a letter addressed to Harry."

"I think you ought to thank me for not being the perfect gentleman when I recognized Miss Granger's writing."

"I think you ought to leave _my_ matters with Miss Granger alone!" said Remus angrily and stood up.

"Will you be eating that meal?" asked Lord Black.

"I have no appetite. Moreover, I have got some cases which require immediate attention. I will see you later."

Lord Black shrugged and took his vacated place. He thanked Merlin for not giving him such a tremulous love-life. He was happy with his _immoral_ way of life. Plus, he couldn't imagine letting Cook Ginger's marvellous culinary skills go to waste!

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Hermione put on her thick black cloak. The English weather had turned out to be as unpredictable as ever. It had started to snow even before she had had her lunch. However, she was sure that Harry would come to meet her anyway. Just as _she_ was going to keep the appointment.

So pulling on the hood, she went out.

Luckily, it wasn't snowing heavily. She was able to reach the Grounds without much incident. There were no secret potholes in which she would fall – at least none that she knew of. It wasn't as if she was in the Yorkshire Moors.

She leaned against a giant lone pine at a corner. Casting a Snow-Shield Charm about her, she waited for Harry.

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She was growing impatient. Where was he? She knew that a small thing like this won't stop him. Merlin! He was a powerful wizard! Even the mightiest of blizzards won't stop him!

She was about to give up all hope and return to the Castle when she spotted a moving black spot at the far edge of the Grounds.

She smiled. _Of_ _course_ he would come! How stupid of her to think otherwise!

Raring to go, she started moving towards him. However, she observed after a few minutes, he seemed to be going in the direction of the Castle. What was he doing?

"Harry!" she called out. "Harry!"

He didn't seem to hear her.

She put a mild Voice-Loudening Spell on her throat.

"_Harry_!"

Thankfully, he heard her and stopped. He turned and after a moment's hesitation, began walking towards her.

_At_ _last_, thought Hermione, _I_ _am_ _going_ _to_ _get_ _to_ _know_ _something_.

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES: Evil cliff-hanger! I know it is shorter than others, but it seemed _just_ the right place to leave off! ;-) Don't worry! You'll get the next one soon enough. It is already half-complete. Just hope the modem behaves itself.**

**So for a faster update, review! I hope I get better review statistics. I KNOW that this story has its faults, but it isn't _that_ bad. Right?**

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	6. Chapter Six

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**GRASCORTY CASTLE**

_ Lucille Lee_

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Summary: AU. WIP. Set in the 18th-19th century. Hermione hadn't really gotten used to her new life when she stumbles upon a multitude of adventures. Will life at Grascorty Castle be more different than she thought? SS:HG:RL

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**Review Responses:-**

**BaskervilleBeauty**: Their reactions were just to show the intensity of their feelings. Lupin is like… sure about it while Hermione is in doubt. That is why Hermione wasn't so awfully affected by it all… I hope it wasn't confusing?

**Almost** **Funny**: Thanks for the compliment! By the way, that has got to be the most "unique" threat I ever got! ;-D Hope the update came soon enough! If not, you will be sourly disappointed! I have no soul! Ha:-D

**Manda** (in response to your mail because my Yahoo! Mail was troubling me and not letting me reply): I am not sure about it. You'll give me credit for the story? If yes, then I am cool with it. Go ahead! Just mention my name once. ;-)

**Natsuyori**: Thanks. Anyway, I just feel I can do much better than this. Sky's the limit!

**Serena**: Me, too, sort of. Lol.

**Kismet0116**: Thanks!

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**_6. In which it's so cold… _**

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Hermione hastened her pace. In a few minutes she was near Harry.

"Harry! I thought you won't come! I have got a lot of things to tell you and ask, as well."

'Harry' let out a low laugh and lifted up his hood.

"Miss Hermione Granger, if I remember rightly – and as eager as ever. Surely, Mudblood, you haven't changed a bit! You're still as annoying."

Hermione stiffened, her eyes widening, and anger along with hatred welling up in her.

"Draco Malfoy," she said quietly, her hand moving towards her wand, "what are _you_ doing here?"

"I might ask the same of _you_," he countered, whipping out his wand.

"I live here. You are trespassing on my uncle's property," she said, her wand ready for a duel. She was a well-brought up witch – which did _not_ mean that she would give up the chance to duel and defeat one of her most hated adversaries.

"What makes you think _I_ care?"

"It's a pity, you don't, you wicked liar!"

His face clouded. Hermione knew that look. She bent and moved away just before he shot a hex at her.

Standing up straight again, she shot out a Stunning Spell at him.

He ducked. "_Crucio!_"

Hermione's eyes widened at the word, but she managed to evade it by leaning right.

However…

"_Colloportus!_"

A light blue spell shot at her and she was send flying against the pine, hitting herself hard against it. Fortunately, she wasn't unconscious, though bleeding. She was up on her feet and evaded the next spell he sent at her.

A flurry of curses followed.

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Impedimenta!_"

"_Diffindo!_"

"_Expelliarmus!"_

"_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Completely forgetting that she was in a Muggle hamlet and fighting valiantly against the snow falling faster and faster, Hermione engaged in a fierce duel with Malfoy. She was not going to spare him although she would not use the Unforgivable Curses. She shielded herself against curses she could recognize and physically evaded the Dark ones.

Just as she sent a hex at him, which he shielded himself against; she felt something other than Malfoy move. The next moment, Malfoy lay unconscious on the snow-covered ground.

Breathing hard, she tried to discern who the newcomer was. She recognized him. Even though he was heavily cloaked and hooded, she was sure of who he was.

"Mr. Snape."

Not sparing a glance at her, he floated up Malfoy and began to move towards the edge of the grounds.

"Mr. Snape," she breathed out running towards him. "I…"

Suddenly he stopped, throwing back his hood. "You are an unnecessary trouble, Miss Granger. I have more work to do than protect you. Go back to where you came from. You do not belong here. You are a Muggle-born. You are not one of them – one of us. Your decision to be a nun was your best one. Go along with it – it will be better for you. Do anything! Just go away!" he said harshly and turned away.

The snow was falling fast. A blizzard was not far. Hermione stood in the white field, her pain and exhaustion numbed by the cold – the cold emanating from the callous man who was fast disappearing into the storm.

Involuntarily, her eyes watered. Trying hard not to let the tears flow down, she looked down, bringing up a gloved hand to wipe off the tears.

Something shone – she blinked – something shiny was being fast buried under the snow. Kneeling down, she pulled out the ring made completely of diamonds wired in gold.

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She could have easily cast a spell to protect herself against the snowstorm. But she did not. Moreover, she didn't care. Her mind was still on his hard-hearted words.

How could he say that? She would have just defeated that high and mighty Draco Malfoy if he hadn't interrupted them! She didn't need him! She could fight her own fights and win them! What was he doing here anyway? Why was he here? She might be a Muggle-born but she was NOT less than any snotty pureblood! That black-hearted vile man!

Her lips were tinged with blue as she returned to the castle. A maid going down to the kitchen was disconcerted at seeing her – tired, wounded and almost numb with cold. Snapping at her to leave her alone, Hermione went to her room.

The fire was burning brightly in her room. Ginny was sitting near it, sewing.

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Remus ran his fingers through his hair. At this rate, he would lose his job and become a maniac. As if Miss Granger wasn't enough to distract him, the continuous clutter-clatter in the room just below his study was driving him to insanity. Surrendering all calm to Ares, he threw down his quill and went to see what was happening.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN IS GOING ON IN HERE?"

The numerous people, who filled the room and those who were going in or coming out, all stopped at his indignant bellow.

"Joseph," he shouted at the butler, "what is going on in here?"

The aged, portly man, who had been serving since old Lord Black's days, was offended at his tone. However, in an extremely foreboding manner, he replied, "We are preparing for Lord Black's New Year Ball, sir – as we always do."

Trying to rub off the increasing headache, Lupin asked, "And where is Lord Black?"

"He is not in the manor, sir. He left for the city four hours ago."

Wondering what Sirius was up to, Remus left. He could hear the clutter-clatter begin again and decided there was no way except a Silencing Spell to cut off the noise. But that would mean that he won't be able to hear _anything_ outside the study. He couldn't risk that. Not in these times.

Sighing, he put back his books and files and decided that he would do it the day after tomorrow as he still had one week. Tomorrow, as he surmised, the household would be busy cleaning up after the Ball. They would make even louder noise then.

He would go down to the garden right on the other side. He craved some peace for his sanity.

x-x-x-x-x-x-

"_Harry_! What are…?"

But Harry burst out even before Remus was out of the shock of seeing him there.

"I just got to know. Through _Snape_. Hermione was attacked. By _Malfoy_. Draco Malfoy. WHERE WERE _YOU_?"

Remus was badly shocked. "Wh…?"

"I TRUSTED YOU! _WHAT_ WERE YOU DOING?"

"Harry, I…"

"I didn't say anything to Sirius because I knew he isn't very dependable because he goes to the city at strange times. But you would. You _promised_ to take care of her. But I am gone one day and she is attacked by DRACO MALFOY!"

Harry was fuming. His green eyes were livid.

"And here's the best part – _SEVERUS_ _SNAPE_ seeks me out and in his usual snide manner informs me of my _incompetence_ of taking care of my friends. SEVERUS SNAPE – someone who is supposedly a DEATH-EATER and SPY and someone before whom I have _ALWAYS_ – _ALWAYS_ defended _you_ – shows me how _inept_ and _worthless_ I am – not being able to protect a friend living not more than a mile away!"

Harry paused to take breath and sat down on a bench. "What were you doing? How _could_ you let this happen?"

Remus was deadly pale. "Harry, I had no idea… I don't understand… where did this happen?"

"_Grascorty_ _Grounds_! That's a shame, right?"

"I am going to the Castle to see how she is," said Remus, but Harry stopped him.

"You cannot just barge into the Castle when you want to. It will look suspicious. She's fine."

"Have _you_ met her?"

"Snape said she reached back the Castle safely."

"I don't trust him!"

"And yet he is the one who protects her – not you," said Harry scathingly and went away.

Remus stood rooted to the spot – anxiety and anger making his head throb with pain.

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x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Hermione."

Hermione looked coldly at her. "Ginny."

"Hermione, I…"

"I don't want to hear any explanations, Ginny. Please, I want to be alone."

"I wasn't offering explanations, Hermione. I only wanted to know if you were fine."

"I have never felt better, Ginny. Please, go. What would a pureblood care for a lowly Muggle-born anyway?" she shot at her angrily.

Ginny looked hurt and shocked. "What are you talking about? How can you say that to me?"

"Just as you can lie and hide things from me, I can do the same, you know!"

Torn between anger and distress, Ginny went out.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione fell down on her vacated chair. She needed the warmth. Her body felt like ice and she suspected a deep gash had formed across the back of her neck and shoulder.

She drew closer to the warmth, trying to blank out her mind to all but the relief provided by the flames in the hearth.

A few minutes later, shaking her head at her own foolishness, she fetched her wand from her cloak-pocket and cast a Warming Charm around the room. It was bliss after her misadventure in the blizzard.

She regretted being short with Ginny. But she had been furious at Mr. Snape. She had spilled out her anger on her remembering that even Ginny lied to her. Everyone lied to her. Why?

As she got rid of her wet clothes and put on dry ones, her natural curiosity kicked in.

Where was Harry? She had gone there to meet Harry. But he hadn't been there. Instead, Malfoy had come there – for some incomprehensible reason.

Incomprehensible? She wondered…

Even Mr. Snape had been there. And Ginny had returned.

Pieces were starting to fall in place.

These three always seemed to be around together. Mr. Snape was taking care of Florinzel – Ginny and Draco's child. Ginny, obviously, knew about Florinzel's whereabouts and was allowed to visit him.

But what about Draco? Where was he coming in? Why was he here? He was going towards the Castle when she first saw him and thought that he was Harry. So obviously, he hadn't known that she was around until she talked to him. It meant that he had come to meet Ginny.

How did he know that Ginny was here? She had surmised from Ginny's account of their relationship that Draco Malfoy would not know where she would be. But he obviously did. How?

She rummaged in her drawer for the Madam Muffins' Minor Wound Healing Salve.

Maybe… maybe he was the one who had intercepted Mr. Snape's owl, Eros. Somehow, he had come to know about the existence of his son and wanted him. Which meant that Ginny had been keeping Florinzel secret from Draco. But he had come to know about it. Hence, he had attacked them that night on the Bridge.

Most probably, that was why he had come to Grascorty. He couldn't apparate here so he was walking down to the Castle – she had mistaken him for Harry.

Still, there was a lot left unsolved.

First, how had Draco Malfoy come to know about his child and why Ginny had kept the existence of Florinzel such a secret that she hadn't even told her, Hermione?

Second, where did Mr. Lupin come in? For she was sure that he came in somewhere – he had more than revealed everything that night.

Third, why did she have the feeling that things went much deeper than she thought?

Fourth and rather imminent one, why hadn't Harry come to meet her this afternoon?

Oh yes, there was one other thing – how had Mr. Snape come to know that Draco Malfoy was here duelling with her? Even if Ginny had seen them, she couldn't have informed him so soon.

Not unless Grascorty Castle was connected with the Floo Network.

But Grascorty Castle was a Muggle place, right?

And yet, one couldn't apparate here.

_This is going to be interesting_, she thought as she examined the cut with her fingers. _And that cut is going to leave a mark._

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES: I am unsure of the colour, spelling and purpose of the spell and I have lost the keys to my Adventure Books Bookcase. So when I am able to locate the duplicate ones, I will confirm the spell.**

**Slightly longer than the last one, but not as long as I was aiming at. I can't seem to lay off cliff-hangers – severe or small.**

**So, how was it? The mystery deepens, and I hope it is binding enough to make you want to read more! Plus, I hope the characters are not going OOC (Out Of Character).**

**Tell me in your review! **

**- Lucille.**

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	7. Chapter Seven

**CHAPTER 6 RELOADED**

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**GRASCORTY CASTLE**

_ Lucille Lee_

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Summary: AU. WIP. Set in the 18th-19th century. Intrigue and mystery surrounds Hermione's new home, Grascorty Castle. In an era which sees the re-rise of Darkness, what is in store for Muggle-born Hermione? SS:HG:RL

x-x-x-x-x-x-

**_7. In which Hermione learns of some new secrets_**

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**CHAPTER 6 RELOADED**

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"Remus?"

Lord Black looked at his friend with some concern.

"What's the matter?"

"Hermione was attacked," said Remus dismally, not opening his eyes. "And of course, because of the imbecile I am, I was unable to save her."

Lord Black was genuinely shocked. "You aren't an imbecile. How would you know what happens to Miss Granger down at the Castle?"

"I was _supposed_ to know – I had promised. I was _supposed_ to take care of her. And of all the persons on earth, it was Draco Malfoy."

Lord Black pulled a chair right in front of his. "Don't be daft. How would _you_ know she was in trouble? Don't blame _yourself_! You won't have been sitting here if you had known. It is simply _impossible_ to be with her day and night!"

Remus slowly opened his eyes and looked at Sirius. "You make sense. But that doesn't disprove the fact mean that she might have been _killed_."

"How's she? How'd you know?"

"Harry says she is fine. He must be right."

"Harry?" said Lord Black sharply. "When did he come?"

"How strange will it be if I go to see her?"

"_Very_. She'll be coming to the Ball tonight, anyway."

"There's a whiteout out there…"

"It has already stopped snowing. Most of the people whom I have invited are wizards. They will definitely be coming. And you know that this is more than a mere New Year Ball. We will be recruiting new Order members afterwards. We need a gathering. We need to be together and hack up everyone's morale. We have been faced with defeat twice recently. The Order meeting which follows is going to be important."

"I don't feel like attending it. I am so… confused. Merlin, Sirius! What has that woman done to me?"

"What women are _meant_ to do to men, Remus Lupin… Come on, this is no way for a man to act."

"Let me be, Sirius."

"_No_, come on. We are going to the theatre. There are still some hours until the ball. We can catch the last two acts of _Alls_ _Well_ _That_ _Ends_ _Well_."

"Sirius, I…"

Lord Black put on his hat and almost pulled Remus out of his chair. "I don't like you moping about. I like you better with all your inane chattering," was all he said as he spelled on his friend's coat and hat.

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"Is that all there is to this life? BALLS?" exclaimed Hermione exasperatedly at the maid who had come to inform her about Lord Black's New Year Ball.

The maid looked horrified, but said nothing.

Sighing, Hermione said, "Just lay out the dress on the bed, I shall be able to dress without assistance. Meanwhile, would you please warm this salve in some water and bring it to me in about half an hour."

"Yes, ma'am," said the maid, obviously relieved that she did not have to assist her strange mistress. Her friend Ella had told her about Miss Granger returning home "all wild and strange" this afternoon.

Hermione went to the antechamber to her room and locking the door after her, set about conjuring a bath. It was really absurd how people could get on without baths every day. In this one respect, magicians were better than Muggles. She had been used to daily baths once she was at Hogwarts – especially after Potions and Care of Magical Creatures class.

x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione frowned at the dress. It was winter, for Merlin's sake! Why had the woman put out such a revealing gown? She would die of cold – not to mention that the cut would be glaringly obvious.

Sometimes, she couldn't be grateful enough for being a witch – times like these.

Just as she pulled out her wand from the cloak pocket, something fell out. The ring.

Abandoning her intentions of "dress-making", Hermione picked up the ring and brought it to the fire for closer observation. Though there were a number of diamonds there, it wasn't quite beautiful. In fact, it looked rather unattractive although it was very shiny.

Hermione kept it on the dressing-table next to the bowl which the maid must have come and put in earlier. She observed with some satisfaction that the salve had been diluted perfectly. After sterilizing her white handkerchief, she dipped it in the solution and set about applying it to the wound.

All the while, she kept glancing at the ring. It had probably fallen off Draco Malfoy when he had fallen down. But it might belong to Mr. Snape, too. The thought of Mr. Snape clouded her brow. She was still _very_ furious with that man. She was a proud woman who could not take insults easily – and what he had said was one of the _meanest_ insults anybody could heap on her.

However, she eventually decided the ring belonged to Draco Malfoy. First, he was extremely rich – at least that was what she had always heard and observed by his attire. Moreover, his father was speculated to be the next Minister for Magic. And Mr. Snape wasn't exactly the person who could own such expensive jewellery. Moreover, she thought viciously, only a Malfoy would buy such an expensive but an utterly _ugly_ ring. In spite of all the diamonds, she was sure that any sane person would prefer to wear no jewels than this ring. It was grotesquely repulsive.

As she finished healing her wound, she disposed of the water and cloth.

Then her mind turned to the usual storm of questions – the most important being, where was _Harry_?

She strongly hoped that he would be there at the Black Manor tonight. If he was missing, than she would directly talk to Mr. Lupin. It was all right to be a 'lady' to try not to displease a man she was beginning to like, but it was totally another thing to have a childhood friend missing.

She frowned at the gothic-looking black and silver gown. Maybe she had overdone a bit in order to make it less revealing. Sighing, she picked up her wand once again. She was no good at dress-designing but there was no way she was even going to think about asking Ginny.

x-x-x-x-x-x-

All in all, she thought, as she felt warmth wash over her on entering the Black Manor, she hadn't done a bad job of making herself a dress. It had a fashionable neckline without bordering on vulgar and she had not put her hair up in a bun, but allowed them to flow down in deep chocolate curls to her elbows to cover her neck and back. She had managed to add decent frills and laces without a mistake in Sewing Charms. It was something she had learnt in Elementary Witches' Class in her first year. It hadn't been futile after all.

On entering the octagon ball room, Mr. Lupin came up to meet Lord Cromwell and her. She wondered if something was wrong because Harry was nowhere to be seen and Mr. Lupin was strangely ill at ease.

Moreover, he wasn't talking much – not to _her_. His attention was fully concentrated on what Lord Cromwell was saying about some new MP. Her mind drifted off to observing other people who were there in a matter of a few minutes. Her liking of politics was very limited – especially Muggle politics.

Lovegoods were there – Luna in a dress of indefinable design in blue and grey – they were the only people whom she remembered as coming to her own place. She wondered where all the others had come from. If they had come down from the city, surely, Lord Black must be having a lot of guests staying over!

She glanced at her uncle and Mr. Lupin. She frowned – they had seemingly forgotten her existence.

Just as she was trying to follow what they were talking about, two slim white hands came over her eyes.

She heard a whisper very near her ear, "Guess who, 'Mione?"

She couldn't help but smile. "Well… let's see… how many dimwits in this world call me 'Mione… oh yes, only one, Mr. Ron Weasley."

The tall, thin red-head let out a low chuckle as he removed her hands and embraced.

"I am so happy to see you, Ron," said Hermione, brightly.

"Truly speaking, I had a feeling that we won't be meeting soon. Thank Merlin I was wrong! Hey Remus!"

Mr. Lupin smiled in a strained sort of way. "How's the training, Ron?"

"Wonderful," said Ron.

Mr. Lupin introduced Ron to Lord Cromwell. Hermione observed that the nobleman didn't quite like Ron – he looked at him in a grave, suspicious manner. Her eyes drifted to Ron's shock of orange-red hair. Well, obviously _that_ was far from normal.

"Would you like to dance, Hermione?"

Glad to find an escape from the boredom that threatened her if she stayed with Mr. Lupin and her uncle, she allowed Ron to lead her to the dance-floor.

x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Have you seen Harry?"

"He was in the greenhouse, I think. But he's here anyway. How are _you_?" His voice was meaningfully grave.

"I am fine. Why shouldn't I be?"

Ron lowered his tone and leaned in a little. "Harry told me about the attack… Draco Malfoy and all…"

Hermione missed a step and crushed Ron's foot.

"How does _HARRY_ _know?_"

"Isn't he supposed to?"

"I… I think I need to talk to Harry. Can you show me to the greenhouse?"

"Hermione… it won't be a good idea to talk to Harry right now…"

"What? What's the matter with him, Ron? Is he all right?"

"Yes, yes! He's okay. Just calm down, Hermione. You can see him tomorrow. I'll tell him. I am afraid he is rather busy tonight. He just took off a second to tell me about what had happened at Grascorty. I am quite sure that he won't be in the greenhouse right now."

"Then where would he be?"

"I am not sure – _truly_."

Hermione sighed and sat down.

"There is so much going on around here but no one is telling me anything! It is so frustrating!"

Ron took her hands in his. "It'll be all right, Hermione."

"Everyone is lying to me, Ron," she said bluntly, leaning against him. "I am so confused. I don't know what to do."

"It'll be all right – eventually," he muttered.

x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Miss Granger, something wrong?"

Hermione forced on a pleasant smile for Lord Black. He was one man she could not bear to put off with her melancholy. It wasn't as if she cared for him. But he was… Lord Black. She would hate to see him serious and worried.

"Oh no! I was just a little tired."

"So soon, Miss Granger? I was about to ask you for the next dance."

"Maybe I can make… allowances," said Hermione, smiling.

"Flattered," said Lord Black, clutching her hand in his.

"By the way, my Lord, I really believe that the gold and ruby dragon earring suited you better than this silver and diamond eagle."

"Indeed? I will remember this next time!"

x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Remus?"

Remus was slightly startled to hear the whisper. He glanced at Lord Cromwell, who was happily pointing away the myriad faults of some Lord Galloway. He truly had no idea about it, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to look at Miss Granger. Shakespeare had not been able to divert his mind from his guilt.

"Come down to the Black Room."

Excusing himself at the nearest pause (which came very soon, thankfully), Remus went down to where Harry had directed him.

He entered the Black Room just in time to see Harry stowing away his Invisibility Cloak.

"I am not being able to contact Snape," said Harry in an impassive voice and not looking at him. "When I met him in the morning, I completely forgot to tell him about the meeting."

"Did you tell Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore was not in his office. The meeting is in two hours. Where can he be?"

"Do you know where Snape lives?"

"I only know that his place is in London."

There was silence for a while.

"Hermione stayed at Snape's place when she was in London," said Remus quietly.

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to put her in more trouble than she already is. London is a very dangerous ground presently. Anyway, the last I knew, Snape had returned from Malfoy Manor. So no danger in that quarter, I think."

Harry set about arranging the room for the meeting. For some moments, Remus only followed the movements of his wand.

"Harry."

"I am sorry for the morning," the younger man replied dryly without looking at him, "I shouldn't have said that because you couldn't possibly have known."

"You know that you don't mean a word, Harry."

Harry turned around, frowning. "What do you want me to do then? Kneel before you and beg your forgiveness?"

"No," said Remus, moving up to him, "just let me become your best mentor again. I love Miss Granger. You cannot even imagine how much I am worried about her – especially now that she has duelled with Malfoy and defeated him. You do know that he will want revenge?"

"There is someone else who will be thirsting for revenge," observed Harry. "You do know that Sirius has no idea that Snape will be coming here?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-

And now Mr. Lupin had also disappeared. She wondered what was with these people. No one seemed to stay at one place for more than a few minutes.

She looked around to see her uncle dancing with some woman she didn't recognize. Ron, too, was nowhere to be seen neither was Lord Black. Spotting the door to the balcony, she quietly slipped out.

She wasn't the kind of person to believe in 'intuition', but sometimes she just had the feeling which could not be ignored. She was feeling like that now. A feeling like… something was going to _happen_.

As she neared the farthest end of the balcony, she discovered a steep staircase leading downstairs. Pulling up her skirts a little so that they won't trip her, she slowly descended the steps. She didn't know where they lead but wasn't averse to finding out. It was better than getting bored in the ballroom or the drawing room.

The corridor into which she had come was very empty and quiet – almost eerily so.

It was very cold down here. Hermione put her hands in the small pocket which had been deftly sewn at the side of the dress. Her fingers first brushed against her wand, and then clasped around the ring – Malfoy's ring.

She pulled it out. It was gleaming brightly. Hermione frowned. It was true that there were many diamonds engraved in it, but how could they shine so brightly of their own accord without any light falling on them?

Pocketing it once again, she slowly made her way down the corridor. She didn't know why she had brought the ring with her. She had just picked it up on an impulse… it would be safer with her.

"HARRY!"

Hermione stopped as she heard Lord Black's voice. It seemed to be coming from somewhere very close.

"You knew!" yelled Lord Black again. Hermione flinched. She hadn't known that the easy-going man was capable of being murderously angry.

"If this is about Snape…"

That was definitely Harry, thought Hermione. And Mr. Snape again…

"You bloody well know it is! How could you lie to me?"

"I haven't exactly _lied_ to you…"

"Lay off the technicalities, Potter," snapped Lord Black. "I am not having the man in this house – not over my dead body!"

"Be reasonable, Sirius! Snape…"

"I won't be reasonable," came the heated answer. "I am not having the man in my house no matter what!"

"One would think, my Lord, that given the circumstances, you would be more co-operative."

She knew that she had heard that voice somewhere…

"It is almost as bad as having Voldemort in the house!"

"Sirius, calm down."

"To hell with you, too, Moony!"

"Damning me to hell will not help out cause against Voldemort in any way, Sirius. Come with me."

"I…"

"_Sirius_," said Mr. Lupin acerbically commandingly, "come with me."

The voices died down. There was the receding sound of footsteps and then everything was quiet for a while.

"Isn't Dumbledore here as yet?" asked the voice Hermione thought she knew.

"He's come. I think he will talk to Sirius first," said Harry.

Dumbledore… _Headmaster_ _Dumbledore_. Hermione knew for sure that something very important was going on. She wondered… yes, she wondered very much.

"And Snape?"

"He ought to be here. Dumbledore had informed him about meeting."

Hermione still couldn't see where Mr. Snape fit in. Her opinion was that he ought _not_ to be trusted if the matter was what she thought it was. But if Dumbledore believed in him… well, suffice to say that she greatly trusted and respected the Headmaster.

"Let us go down. Others will come in. I'll just see Sirius and Remus."

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Everything was dark and silent now. Hermione no longer felt the tedious boredom. Her mind was working fast.

It all sounded like they were going to have some sort of secret meeting… were they a secret society or something? But why? She could only think of one reason… _Voldemort_.

She clearly remembered the first time when she had met Mr. Lupin. He had mentioned that Voldemort was getting powerful. She just hadn't known that he was getting so powerful as to perturb the likes of Dumbledore to take drastic measures. She supposed that the Ministry was as imbecilic as ever – what else could be expected with Cornelius Fudge as Minister for Magic.

What should she do now? She had no idea where they were. In fact, the end of this corridor seemed to run into a wall. Dead end. If only she knew how, she would have spied and found out more about what was going on.

Once again she wondered why Harry hadn't told her anything. Although, when she did see him next time, it would not be wise to mention that she _did_ know about some secret group they had formed.

She performed different spells on the wall, hoping to find some hidden way. However, it seemed as if there was no such way. Defeated, she turned back towards the stairs.

Just as she reached them, she heard someone come out in the balcony.

She quickly hid in the alcove a few feet away.

To her relief, the person did not come downstairs, but went inside after a few minutes.

As soon as she was sure that the balcony was empty, she began ascending the stairs. She had reached halfway when she thought she heard shouts from the dark corridor she had been in.

She went back downstairs, drawing out her wand as she did so.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Imperio!"_

"_Crucio!"_

And then two simultaneous voices of, _"Petrificus Totalus!"_

Hermione pocketed her wand. It was a false warning. She had recognized the voices – Lord Black and Mr. Snape. She was somewhat startled to find that they were so bitter enemies as to try hexing each other with the Unforgivable Curses.

She heard Professor Dumbledore talking to them. He was annoyed with their "childish behaviour" (as he termed it) and all in all, Hermione thought that she would be very embarrassed if it was she who had been receiving that lecture.

She pocketed her wand and went back to the ballroom and slipped in as unobtrusively as she had left.

x-x-x-x-x-x-

They had left soon after Hermione had re-entered the emptying ballroom. Fortunately, no one seemed to have noticed her absence. But her mind was on her discoveries in the Black Manor. Her curiosity was overwhelming, but she realized that there was very little that she could do about it.

Hence, it was in a very frustrated mood that she went upstairs to her room. It seemed as if there was no one she could truly trust – and no one who truly trusted _her_. She suddenly felt very much the stranger she really was in Grascorty.

As she lay sleepless on the bed, she observed the glinting ring. Would that be something important to them? Or was it just a useless piece of jewellery. She couldn't stop feeling that it wasn't something insignificant. It was really too repulsive to be unimportant.

She wondered what Harry would say if he knew that Snape was a close associate of the Malfoys – the same Malfoys who were so obviously supportive of Voldemort. Oh, there never was _proof_ for their actions! But it was common knowledge. Their hatred of Muggleborns and Halfbloods was very well-known and they never discouraged these views as rumours but only propounded them.

And yet… there had been something about that dark man that had made her – that had made her trust him… for she did trust him in a very naïve sort of way – as if there was no room for any other thought than to believe in him.

Time had somewhat calmed the intense anger she felt towards him. Now she wondered why he had been there this morning. How could he have come there?

She looked at the fire brightly burning fireplace. Was it connected with the Floo Network? She so wished that she had some Floo Powder with her right now.

Why did he care what became of her – whether Draco Malfoy killed her or not? How did he know? Why did he come?

The man was more of an enigma than she would have liked any person to be. It was fascinating, but she couldn't help but feel wary of him. He was the dark stranger that appeared and disappeared mysteriously from one's life – like… like someone in a book. She smiled wryly. She was surely very unsure of her own mind – one moment she hated him and another moment he was the intriguing man she would have liked to meet again.

However, she doubted if that would ever be possible. Why would they ever meet anyway? Unless she got into a duel with some more Death-Eaters and he would mysteriously appear out of nowhere to help her and then vanished into thin air.

Shaking her head, she extinguished the fire and put a Heating Charm over the room.

She was asleep soon. The day had been a long.

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	8. Chapter Eight

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**GRASCORTY** **CASTLE**

:_ Lucille Lee_

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Summary: AU. WIP. Set in the 18th-19th century. Intrigue and mystery surrounds Hermione's new home, Grascorty Castle. In an era which sees the re-rise of Darkness, what is in store for Muggle-born Hermione? SS:HG:RL

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**_8. In which a few promises are made _**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The next few weeks were conspicuous by their lack of activity. After the eventful days she had hitherto spent in Grascorty Castle, she had been expecting more adventure. However, the most she did was find some interesting books in the library and learn a lot about her ancestors (which wasn't as boring as one would imagine).

She had not seen Ginny during this time. One morning in late January, she learnt from another maid, Agnes, who now usually served her that Ginny had left. Hermione wondered if it was because of her. She kept feeling quite guilty for quite a few days. The Lovegoods and Millers were the only people who visited them once a while. At first, playing the part of the hostess discomfited her. It was all very awkward. But by practice, she grew deft and it and began enjoying the whole thing. Luna Lovegood, with all her strange talks, wasn't as annoying as before but rather entertaining.

Her uncle was the person who often talked about the family. He seemed very proud to belong to a lineage of famous, brave men. However, he would never mention his brother or parents. He would often talk about his travels to the Oriental countries. Personally, she didn't believe even half of them, but she had to admit that they were quite innovative and a pleasant change from the stereotyped novels.

Meanwhile, she had once again begun brushing up her magical skills. That was chiefly because she had nothing to do all day. There was no work to do around the castle. There was no garden to tend. There were no homely neighbours to help. It was rather like the life a princess in many ways. Only she wasn't used to such a life and wasn't sure that she would have liked it.

There had been no visitors from Black Manor. Lord Cromwell, one day, commented that Black, Potter and Lupin would leave for London in February – they always did – and would come back only in November or thereabout for two months. They were "society persons" who liked to live the vibrant London life.

Hermione, needless to say, didn't like that idea. While she now liked the Lovegoods and Millers, she couldn't imagine having no one but them for company all the year round. The prospect was singularly scary.

Moreover, she liked Mr. Lupin a lot. His seemingly indifferent behaviour the night of the New Year Ball had perturbed her. She didn't have very strong feelings for him, but she did like him better than any man she had known until now. She would have very much liked to explore these feelings – if only he would have stayed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

February was coming to an end. Hermione had now fallen into a simple routine of studying and practising magic in the privacy of her bedroom. She had tried to use the brushes and paints which she had found in a drawer of her bureau, but she really wasn't very good at it. In the absence of proper guidance, all she could feel was that she was wasting paper.

It was a late Thursday afternoon. It had been a relatively clear day.

She had been sewing in her room, when Agnes came to inform her that there was a visitor. Since Lord Cromwell was not feeling well, she would have to attend to him.

And to her pleasant surprise, it was neither the Lovegoods nor Millers.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"It is good to see you again, Miss Granger. It feels too long since our last meeting," said Mr. Lupin as he turned away from the casement when she entered.

"I was wondering if you would leave Grascorty without seeing me, sir. I am glad you decided not to."

He smiled apologetically. "My house is in London, you see. Would you not convince Lord Cromwell to bring you to London?"

She shook her head. "I think he likes it very much here."

"The country has its charms, yes," he said pensively, looking out of the window.

"I am sorry that you will be gone for the whole year," she said, looking down. How she wished to express how much she was going to miss him…

"I think I am, too."

She looked up as he came closer and took her hands in his. He seemed somewhat uncomfortable but his eyes were grave and looked deeply into hers.

"I wish I could stay with you, Hermione. But since it cannot be so, I can only leave a promise with you." He gently kissed her fingers. "I have loved you since the day I saw you and I know that you are the only one I can love so."

Hermione felt… disturbed by his confession. Did she _love_ him?

"I do not ask anything of you, Hermione," he said, "but I just wished for you to know my feelings."

"Mr. Lupin…"

"Remus – please call me 'Remus'. You need not say anything now. In fact, please do not say anything now but when I come back. I would like you to think over your feelings at leisure. I will try to come sooner than November."

She could only nod.

He released her hands and smiled. Hermione felt her heart lightening as she smiled back at him.

"I must be leaving now."

He hesitated, but only for a moment. Then he bent down and pressed his lips lightly to hers. Hermione felt a heady feeling envelope her. He stepped away and all was cold again.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione stood near the window where he had been not long ago, looking out at the receding carriage.

As it disappeared from view, she sat down on the window-sill. She felt pleasant and just wanted to… smile. She couldn't believe that he had loved her all along. It was true that she could sense that he liked her, too. But love was a very strong feeling – especially when it was proclaimed from a man of his respectability.

Love… that was more than what _she_ felt – or thought she felt. She didn't know. But she didn't want to think about it right now. She only wanted to bask in the ecstasy of his love. It was a lovely, giddy feeling.

It gave her hope – something to expect and think and be happy about. Sure of his affections, she no longer felt impatient and gloomy that he was leaving. It seemed so long since she had felt that.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It was long after the Castle doors had been closed and securely locked. The whole country seemed to be deeply asleep.

Hermione lay in her warm room, blissfully unaware of the stranger who had entered her room.

The stranger, who was a skilful spy, went noiselessly through her bureau, aided by the dim light of his wand. However, his long search was fruitless.

He stood near the lavish bed, regarding the woman lying on it thoughtfully.

Extinguishing the light at the tip of the wand, he pocketed it. As he leaned over her, Hermione stirred and moments later, opened her eyes.

In spite of the inky darkness of the new moon night, Hermione could distinguish those eyes.

"You!" she murmured, the haze of sleepiness not quite dispelled.

As she sat up, he stood straight, showing no apprehension at being found.

Hermione brought up the covers tightly about her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked incredulously. "How did you come here?"

"Miss Granger," said Mr. Snape, lighting the candle on the table near the bed, "I believe you have something which you do not own – and have no right to keep with you."

"What are you doing here _at this time?_" persisted Hermione, laying special emphasis on the last words. "This is most awkward," she said after a while.

"It need not be. Just tell me where you have hidden the ring."

_Ring_? That repulsive, shiny jewel…

"Is it yours? I thought it was Malfoy's."

"It is. And I have come to take it."

"Did Malfoy send you?"

He gave her a particularly sour look. "No one orders me around, madam. The ring, please."

"Why would you want it? It is not yours."

"Stop being so stubborn, woman!" he snapped angrily.

She glared at him. "You are trespassing, you know."

He seemed completely untroubled by _that_ fact, at least. "I ask for the last time, Miss Granger. Give me the ring."

"I will," she said after some time of contemplation. She got up and pulled on her kimono loosely about her. "But only if you answer a few of my questions."

"What questions?"

She looked steadily at him as she said, "About Voldemort."

There was silence for a while.

"Just give me the ring. It'll be safe for you to hand it over to me."

"It is a fair bargain, Mr. Snape," she said firmly.

"I don't bargain if it does not suit me. Do not force me into using magic, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked coldly at him. "If you put it that way… I can duel you any time."

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Merlin, woman! You are difficult!"

"I just want to know what is going on. Why should I be kept in dark?"

"Because you have no business knowing what is happening considering that you can be of little help."

"How would you know? I have not been tried."

"You seem to forget that you are a _witch_."

"And that should hinder me how?"

"You are a woman – women don't spy, don't fight," he said condescendingly.

"I don't see why – in fact, Mr. Malfoy, pureblood extraordinaire, certainly did not seem to think so."

He pursed his lips, his frustration obvious.

"I don't see why we should be having this talk. You ought to be grateful that I am taking a Dark object away from you – in fact, I am protecting you from Malfoy. You don't think that his defeat will go without avenged?"

"Everybody seems to be protecting me too much," she said heatedly. "Does it never occur to you that I might not need all that protecting? That I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself?"

He looked at her with an undistinguishable expression.

"You really are naïve," he said softly. "You are too innocent to be allowed to fight Voldemort. They would soon crush you. I can see why Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin care… feel so… greatly responsible for your safety." Then after a pause, "It would be better if you just handed over the ring to me. It is, as I stated, a Dark object. And to satiate a little of your curiosity, it is a key – something which will be useful to the Order."

Something in his gentle tone calmed her vehemence. She wondered what he meant by "naïve". What was she so naïve about?

She went to her dressing table and from a small ring case hidden in a secret opening, brought out Malfoy's ring.

"How's… everyone… everything?" she asked as she handed him the ring.

"Voldemort is growing powerful. The Ministry is most unhelpful. They do not believe that Voldemort is rising – a large majority doesn't, in fact. That is our chief problem."

She was mildly surprised at how easily he told her about it. She had expected him to sneer off her question.

"But… there must be killings and Dark Mark?"

"Death-Eaters leave no indication of their presence now. Moreover, they are no longer killing for their pleasure. Voldemort means to take over the Ministry – or destroy it at least."

As he pulled on his cloak and moved towards the door, she asked, "Is there really nothing I can do? I feel… so left out." Her desperation rang clear in her voice.

"Take care of yourself."

"And there's something else…"

He turned his head slightly towards her.

"Would you… would you please keep me informed about them? About everything? Please, Mr. Snape!"

"It is not possible to send owls, you understand."

She waited. She knew that _he_ knew what she had meant.

"The Bridge is far…"

"I can come easily," she said hurriedly. "I promise I will be discreet."

"I shall come down every Saturday at about midnight."

And with that, he went out as quietly as he had come in.

Next morning, Hermione smiled as she remembered the strange rendezvous. She wondered how it had ended as it had. She forgave him for his harsh words. Surely, he had seemed more pliant than she could have ever imagined him to be.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Lord Black sat in his London home, idly fingering his rings. He still firmly believed that Snape was immensely untrustworthy. Now, he had proof – if that anonymous letter could be proof. However little he had, he had to make the best use of it. Snape was not a person to be trusted. He knew Snape. No one knew Snape as he did.

"What has got you thinking?" asked Remus, who looked exhausted, as he sat down opposite him.

"What happened?"

"The new Death-Eaters are far more rash – if that is possible, not to mention immensely lacking intelligence."

"Lucius Malfoy would be disappointed that his son falls in the category."

Remus shrugged. "I don't know – their stupidity makes them attack first and never think. Sometimes that might be an advantage."

"Talking of Death-Eaters, I would like to know what you think about this."

Lord Black handed him the letter that had busied him for the last few hours. "I received it by this morning's post – the Muggle way."

Remus' brows rose high as he pursued the letter. After he finished reading, he considered it for a long time.

"It is anonymous," he said at last.

"Of course it is anonymous – someone who knows what Snape really is would be afraid of Snape. If that git ever found out that someone had stumbled on his secret and informed the Order, then he would surely torture him to death."

"You had best take this to Dumbledore, I suppose."

"Of course, I will," said Lord Black, pocketing the letter as if it were made of gold. "Right now."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Saturday couldn't come soon enough for Hermione. And even when it did, she found that the day couldn't pass more slowly.

She had woken up quite early that day. She had breakfasted before eight and was moving about the house restlessly. She had, by now, explored all the rooms, read all her books quite a few times and gone through all the new plants in the garden. Although she didn't much like gardening – well actually, she didn't like to be startled by lizards, insects or green snakes.

Bubbling with unrestrained energy, she went out for a long walk by herself. She usually went out alone, the other young ladies of her acquaintance being quite averse to strenuous physical exercise.

She longed to go the Bridge and stay there until midnight when she was so sure that Mr. Snape would come and tell her something.

There was a small bench at the edge of the road just outside the Castle Grounds, shaded by the thick growth of trees and bushes. Hermione sat down to rest for a while.

She was shaken from her thoughts when she heard loud crying noise – definitely a baby.

"'tis all right, Master Loren," said a voice, clearly irritated. "Be quiet now! And sleep!"

Hermione frowned at the annoyed tone. The baby didn't have to be yelled at so that he would sleep. She felt even more protective as she stealthily peered round and saw that it was indeed Ginny's baby.

The child wailed louder as the woman shook him angrily in the end.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Mrs. Collins." She had recognized the woman as one of her uncle's tenants.

The woman was startled to see her there. "Miss Granger," she replied, throwing an irritated look at the baby. "Good morning. My friend's child – she left me with him for a few days."

"Your friend?"

"Mrs. Glen."

Mrs. Collins then tried to quieten the baby in a less hasty manner. Hermione was glad to have come across them – she had no doubt that Mrs. Collins would have had no scruple in hitting the child if not for her presence. She left them only when Loren quietened, making a mental note to check on Mrs. Collins more often.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore slowly rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Lord Black looked expectantly at him.

"So?" he asked finally.

"It is indeed a grave accusation. Severus is one of our most trusted members. But this letter…" Dumbledore looked very much like he wished that the letter had never come into existence.

"You don't think this is all a hoax only?"

"If it is a hoax, the question is who would write it? Know about it? And send it to you."

Dumbledore looked at Lord Black with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.

Lord Black stared at him with a slight frown. Then understanding the hidden meaning, he was indignant. "That's foolish! Why would I take all this trouble? You cannot really believe so!"

The older man just smiled wanly.

"In any case, we have to try and find more about this. I shall ask Filius to search for any traces of magic around it or if there is anything else."

"So you are going to consider it?" asked Lord Black, unable to conceal his malicious smirk.

"I would advise you to mend fences with Severus soon, Sirius. These are hard times – very hard times."

Lord Black gave him an incredulous look, shook his head and left.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-


	9. Chapter Nine

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**_ 9. In which some mysteries of the plot are explained and others deepen_**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It was strange, thought Hermione, how she could recognize Mr. Snape even though he was over ten metres away and it was raining heavily, making impairing visibility. She just got this 'feeling' that it was Mr. Snape and that there was no way that she could be wrong about it.

He was leaning against the railing of the bridge and as she drew near, advanced to meet her.

"I am glad you came."

"It isn't of much use, though – and I cannot stay here for long," he replied quietly. She recognized that he had charmed his voice so that only she could hear him. It seemed strangely distant amidst the heavily falling rain. She followed his example.

"Why? What happened?"

"Do you trust me, Miss Granger?" he questioned in reply.

Hermione was slightly startled. Whatever could have prompted such an enquiry?

"Yes…" She murmured uncertainly.

With an almost imperceptible nod, he stepped forward and gripped her hands.

The next moment she was standing in the attic – which she supposed was his abode.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, taking off his cloak. "The rain was rather inconvenient."

Rather unlike his usual callous self, he helped her out of her dripping wrap and led her to the fireplace. Contrary to the last time she had been here, welcoming yellow flames danced in the hearth.

"Presuming that you have guessed about the Order – which is the Order of Phoenix, by the way – working against the Dark Lord…"

"How do you know?"

"I spied you spying on Black throwing a tantrum about my being in his house – as if I would ever set foot anywhere near him willingly. Not to mention…" His tone was getting darker.

"Oh well," interrupted Hermione, not very embarrassed at being discovered thus, "what about the Order then?"

"I don't know how he did it," said Mr. Snape angrily, his eyes narrowing, "but Black managed to convince Dumbledore that I am not fully loyal towards the Order."

Hermione's eyes widened. Granted that Lord Black would not be credited the best judge where Mr. Snape was concerned, but surely, he would not accuse without reason, would he?

As doubts about his loyalty flashed across her mind, Mr. Snape suddenly turned towards her.

"You can doubt me all you want," he said acerbically, "but believe what I am about to tell you now."

Hermione's cheeks coloured. She didn't _want _to believe that Mr. Snape was a traitor… but all the same, one couldn't easily stop doubting.

"I wasn't…"

Mr. Snape waved an impatient hand. "Please refrain from making meaningless excuses, Miss Granger. My bringing you here has an ulterior motive."

She looked steadily at him.

"Your life is in gravest danger. The Dark Lord is personally interested in finishing you. Grascorty Castle is no longer a safe place for you."

Hermione stared at him for a few moments, and then blinked.

"I beg your pardon – why shouldn't Grascorty Castle be safe for me?"

"Because Lord Cromwell is a Death-Eater – an avid supporter of the Dark Lord."

"No way," she blurted out before she could stop herself. "I mean, he is a Muggle."

"Lord Cromwell is a squib. His only purpose in bringing you to the Castle is to keep you until the Samhain, which is the most favourable time for casting the more 'conditional' Dark curses and spells."

Hermione felt her head whirl with this new information. This man had to be lying. How could her kind uncle be a Death-Eater?

"Why? What do I have to do with the Dark Lord?"

"That will make a very long story, indeed. But you have got to take my word on this matter and trust me – you said that you did. I shall escort you back to Grascorty Castle. You shall quickly pack up your things and then we shall Floo out of the building from your room."

"So my room is connected to the Floo network?"

"Yes. The whole castle is, in fact."

Hermione sat with her eyes fixed on the flames for few minutes. All the while, she could feel Mr. Snape's eyes on her.

Finally, she raised her head to meet his eyes. "Give me one good reason to believe you and to go with this crazy scheme."

Mr. Snape sneered at her. "I am not asking you to believe me. You don't have to go through with this if you don't like."

He took a deep breath.

"However, if you are unwilling, I shall have to immobilize you and take you to a safe place against your free will. I could have done that, but I preferred giving you a choice in the matter."

"Why? Why would you care?"

"Trusted by the Order or not, I have no intentions of seeing the Dark Lord rule the country," he said coldly.

"Then why don't you explain the whole thing from beginning? Yours might be a long story, but I can stay here all night."

Mr. Snape seemed to weigh her suggestion for a while. Finally, he conceded. Conjuring up a chair near hers, he sat down.

"I was a Death-Eater once – it is now twenty years ago. Suffice to say that my skill in Potions impressed the Dark Lord and he deemed me to be a very useful Death-Eater. He trusted me more than he trusted any other Death-Eater. He prefers to do things on his own – he formulates plans without consultation. He only issues orders. But he sometimes told me some things. Slowly, I began understanding how his mind worked. I could fathom his moves although more than once he surprised me with schemes I didn't believe possible.

"A year before his fall, I turned a spy – for Dumbledore. I was as useful to the Headmaster as I had once been to the Dark Lord as I could more or less work out what he meant to do next – where he meant to strike and then report my conclusions to Dumbledore.

"The Dark Lord didn't know of my treachery till the last day, even though I suspect a few others regarded me warily. Whether it was because of my skill in Dark Arts or because they felt that I wasn't loyal, I cannot say.

"When the Dark Lord came to power once again, he summoned all the Death-Eaters. It was a pleasant surprise – although the use of the word 'pleasant' is highly dubious – that he still regarded me with the same trust. Once again, I proved useful to the Order's cause.

"But a few months ago, I felt him grow suspicious of me and treat me with the same caginess the more powerful Death-Eaters did. Eventually, about two months ago, there was an attack on my quarters in the East End. I knew then that he had somehow discovered that I was a spy. I am still in dark as to how.

"I haven't been idle since. I had found out with Dumbledore's help that he had created Horcruxes…"

"What?"

"You do not know what Horcruxes mean, Miss Granger?"

"No," she admitted, a bit sullenly.

"A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul. You split your soul and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. The soul can be torn apart only by the supreme act of evil - committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage. He would encase the torn portion using a spell."

Hermione's eyes widened with shock and horror. "How beastly!"

"That would be an understatement," commented Mr. Snape dryly.

"In any case, the Dark Lord meant to create seven Horcruxes – the last one by killing your friend, Mr. Potter. But you know how well that succeeded. Now, he means to create his last Horcrux – at the time of Samhain this year. And he will use a Ravenclaw souvenir as the Horcrux."

"Why Ravenclaw?"

"Because he has already used the Slytherin and Hufflepuff souvenirs and he cannot access Gryffindor's – the sword is safe in Dumbledore's office. He has a fascination for 'trophies' and still regards Hogwarts as his home – first home. In any case, I have full reason to believe that he will use the Ravenclaw souvenir."

"What is it?" Hermione leaned forward involuntarily – she did not want to miss the answer.

"You – a descendant of Ravenclaw. I do not know how he came to pinpoint that one on you, but I know that he is sure that you are the Heir of Ravenclaw."

"That is the most absurd thing I have ever heard!" exclaimed Hermione, standing up.

"What have you against it?"

"I was a Gryffindor!"

"McGonagall mentioned your enthralment with _Hogwarts: A History_. Do you forget that Ravenclaw married Gryffindor?"

"But…" Hermione couldn't think of anything to say for a while. All things seemed surreal to her now.

Mr. Snape stood up and gently pushed her back in her chair.

"There is more to tell. I did not know that there were Anti-Apparition Charms on Grascorty grounds – which I found very intriguing indeed. Miss Weasley was as surprised to know that. That was what first made me suspicious. I have been on the Grascorty grounds for the past couple of weeks. You might have noticed Florinzel during one of your walks. He was there because I wanted to keep him near me. In any case, unbeknownst to you, your uncle has been periodically leaving the grounds and taking a Portkey to some place. There is a Dark spell to follow a person who Portkeys.

"I have pursued Lord Cromwell on more than one occasion. I couldn't stay near to where the Dark Lord was for long – his pet snake makes that impossible. But I heard things in bits and pieces and I have been putting them together. And I have told you all my conclusions."

Mr. Snape leaned back in his chair.

Hermione found that she was unable to say anything. Everything fit in perfectly. She couldn't trace a flaw in his narrative.

"Does Professor Dumbledore know this?"

"Professor Dumbledore had the misfortune of deeply suspecting my loyalties on Black's words. I do not see a reason to tell him about it. All this concerns you and you alone."

Hermione looked imploringly at him. "You've got to tell him. He'd be able to do something about it."

Mr. Snape looked frostily at her. "If you mean that he would be able to protect you better than I can, then let me disillusion you – you cannot have a better guard than me. I would know how to protect you better."

"I did not mean that… I just feel that Dumbledore's got to know."

"You are free to tell him, of course," he snapped angrily. "But I shall not go back to him or the Order. I am more than pleased to work on my own. I informed you about this because I felt you ought to know. I shall not let the Dark Lord succeed in his plans – hence, I would like you to come with me. I could hide you very well indeed."

"But if Voldemort wants to make a Horcrux, he will. If I am not there, his plans won't change."

"The Dark Lord is a fanatic, Miss Granger. He will have what he has set his mind on."

Hermione pushed in a log in the weakening fire.

"Who does he mean to kill on Samhain?"

She knew the answer to that question though.

"None other than Mr. Potter, of course."

"See… that is why you've got to tell Dumbledore – or Harry."

"I do not give a damn to either. I've had enough from them. Moreover, the Dark Lord will now concentrate his energies on finding you. It might weaken his resolve to kill Potter if you were missing."

Hermione stared incredulously at him.

"Tell me you don't mean that."

"I meant to send Potter a note on Samhain – 'Your death is near'."

"Are you joking?" asked Hermione, scowling at him.

Mr. Snape looked indifferent.

Hermione stood up, huffing angrily.

"I am going to Hogwarts."

"Let us return to the Castle and gather your things first. You should leave that place completely without delay."

"But then we are going to Hogwarts."

Mr. Snape made no reply.

"Why are you so exasperating?"

Mr. Snape stood up, sneering at her insolence.

Flinging her cloak at her, he said, "Apparate to the bridge. Now."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Things went surprisingly smoothly thence. Hermione kept glancing over her shoulder and walked as noiselessly as possible once they entered the Castle. She more than half expected some hooded Death-Eaters to attack her as she entered her room, but everything was just as she had left it.

Mr. Snape helped her out of her dripping cloak and dried and warmed both of theirs while she moved about the room swiftly, reducing and packing her things in an old bag.

"Now we go back to the Bridge and Apparate away from there."

Mr. Snape had reached the door. Realizing that Hermione had not followed him, he stopped and turned back.

"Why should I not believe that it is all a big hoax and you will take me straight to Voldemort?"

"Don't say his name!" he hissed out angrily. But said nothing more, merely glared at her.

"Give me a reason."

"I don't feel compelled to," he said slowly, looking straight into her eyes. "I know I want to protect you."

Hermione felt a burning feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was no reason why she should believe what could well be a set of elaborate lies. Harry didn't like Snape. Lord Black wasn't too fond of him either. What did Remus think?

Her heart constricted a bit at the thought of Remus. Surely, if Dumbledore didn't believe in Snape's loyalty any more, Remus would not either. But then…

She knew he wasn't lying. She couldn't explain why she felt so. She had always been taught to never to trust the feelings you could not explain. However, looking at the dark man waiting for her, she could not help feeling that all she had been believing in until now wasn't the best… that no one could protect her better than this man…

_ 'Where did that come from?' _

She picked up the bag and moved towards him, wondering what she was getting herself into.

_ 'There is no reason to believe him. Dumbledore doesn't.'_

Mr. Snape took her bag and handed her the cloak. He carried it for her till they made their way back to the bridge.

The rain was falling as hard as ever. She could barely see him. His hood was drawn just so that she could see his eyes. Little trails of water ran down the side of his cheeks and down his nose.

He stepped very close to her. This time he talked to her without putting the charm around them.

"You are really very foolish – a Gryffindor through and through."

His hand closed around her wrist.

"I trust you," she said suddenly, clasping his hand.

There was deafening thunder. Snape pulled down the hood over his face. She followed his example – the force of the rain against her face was hurting.

_ 'In for a Knut, in for a Galleon…'_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

This has been taken from Slughorn's explanation to Tom Riddle in the 23rd chapter of Harry Potter and the Halfblood Prince.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-


End file.
